A Song For John
by Jeannie Feegle
Summary: A few months after his faked suicide, Sherlock enlists a young homeless girl called Kate to keep an eye on John after a few concerns. No one said 'keeping an eye on' couldn't mean becoming friends, and that's what Kate & John did, but mainly because of trouble that was looking for a Sherlock Holmes, so what happens when he returns in John's life?
1. A Winter's Day

Kate sat on a wooden bench in a more quiet part of London. It was near two on a mid-January weekday, so it was quiet near Covent Garden. She wore a pair of skinny jeans with boots and leg warmers. Her long purple top was covered by her thick black coat. Her long, bony hands were covered by a pair of mittens that were easily changed into a pair of fingerless gloves. A purple scarf hung from her neck, both ends resting on her coat. Her fairly streaky hair was mainly covered by her purple woolly hat that had one little wool rose as decoration. She tightly held onto the steaming cup of Starbucks hot chocolate, savouring the heat. She'd been homeless for six months now, but had gotten used to it. She usually begged during lunch, because then people had time, or she begged in tourist areas, they were often friendly. She put most of the money to some food to eat and to save for a hot chocolate, or a frappuchino if it was warm. The rest she saved for later.

She sat, watching the few people that were in Covent Garden, walk around. However, she didn't notice that Sherlock was watching as well, just from further away. It had been months since he faked his suicide. Quiet days were extremely boring for him, but it meant he could walk around, he just needed a thin hat to keep himself a secret. Kate finished her hot chocolate, covered her mouth with her scarf and held the polystyrene cup to grasp the fading warmth of it. She went into one of her day dreams, thinking of how it would be working in one of the little shops there. Sherlock noticed, and sat next to her. As soon as he sat down, Kate snapped out of her day dream, but she wasn't going to let him see that. "Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?" Sherlock started, not looking at her.  
"Or compare me to a Winter one," Kate replied after lowering her scarf.  
Sherlock looked at her, his icy eyes sparkling. "That's not how it goes."  
"I know. I don't know why you started with that and I don't think I want to. Hi by the way."  
He chuckled, "Hello, and I started with that to see your reaction."  
Kate frowned and looked at him, "Why would you want to see my reaction?"  
"Because I'm bored." He returned to look at the little shops seen in front of them.  
"Maybe that's because you're meant to be dead."  
"How can you be certain about who I am?"  
Kate laughed, "Oh come on. With those facial features? I could spot you a mile away. Well, probably not _that _far away but the saying remains valid."  
Sherlock smiled, looked at her again and held his hand out, "Sherlock Holmes, but please don't go around shouting about it because I prefer the world thinking I'm dead. You are?"  
Kate took his hand and shook it, "Kate."  
"Kate..."  
"You don't need to know my last name and you don't care about it. You just want to know it for the sake of it."  
"How do you know that?"  
"Because you're Sherlock Holmes."  
Sherlock noticed her scarf. "Interesting fact that you are obviously homeless yet still have an eye for fashion."  
"You're famous for spotting every last detail. I doubt you've missed the fact that this is the best way I know a scarf can keep me warm."  
"You've done your research."  
"I read discarded newspapers. I'd hardly call it research."  
His smile widened.  
"So, why did you fake your own death? Don't you get bored of lurking in the shadows?"  
"I needed to keep people safe, but they might be in danger again. And yes, I get incredibly bored, lurking isn't half as fun as solving cases."  
Kate laughed, then became serious and sincere, "Why do you think they might be in danger again?"  
"I've seen some...odd people move in near where my friend lives. I had them checked out and they are not the best neighbours."  
"By friend you mean Dr Watson, right?"  
"Good assumption, but I meant Mrs Hudson. It's probably the same case for him though. Would you be able to help me?"  
"It depends. Why would you want help from _me_?"  
"Because you've obviously not been homeless for long since you're not in a terrible condition. It's easy to fall all the way down but so bloody difficult to climb back up."  
"How long do you think I've been homeless?"  
"A month or two, not much longer than that. Probably less than that."  
A small smile appeared on Kate's lips and she averted her eyes.  
Sherlock frowned, "What?"  
"I've been homeless for six months."  
"You're lying."  
"No I'm not. I'm still friends with a woman. She has five kids to look after, so I don't want to be a burden. When she goes on holiday, she calls me and I look after her house for her. I don't get paid much for it, but I have a place to sleep, wash and eat. She always leaves me a few things. That's about it."  
"So you have a phone?"  
"Yes." She got a cheap smartphone out of her coat pocket. "It's cheap but I have no need to use it much."  
"Good, that makes things a lot easier."  
"I don't think I'm following your train of thought."  
"I want you to make sure John is OK. I've not been able to locate him, he's moved recently, but he has been leaving a flower or two on my grave every two weeks. If I'm correct he'll be leaving flowers tomorrow at around noon."  
"OK, I think I remember which cemetery it was."  
"It's the closest one to Baker Street."  
"Thank you."  
"I'm sure you'll be able to follow him. Meet me back here at two tomorrow."  
"And that's how it goes? Just like that?"  
"Of course it does." He took her phone and started using it. "Don't worry, I'll bring my payment with me."  
"All right, how am I going to look like I'm not following him?"  
He handed back her phone, along with a large amount of money that shocked Kate. "You'll easily be able to sway through the crowds, I'm sure. Lilies would be appropriate," he replied, "Always seem like the flowers of death."  
Kate laughed, "All right, and if I have money to spare?"  
"Oh, spend it on whatever you wish. Just do me a favour and spend it on nothing stupid."  
She laughed again, "All right, nothing stupid, got it."


	2. Lilies and Tears

Kate came to the cemetery the day after. It was five to twelve. She carried the bouquet of white lilies and strode through the graveyard, looking for the grave Sherlock told her to put the flowers on. She found it, and looked less determined, and more genuine. She was proud of all the times she was able to look genuine, when that was not her real intention at all. The gravestone was in the perfect spot. She could see Sherlock's supposed gravestone quite clearly, and was therefore able to see if anyone came. She crouched by the grave and put the flowers down, then kept a hand on the grave to keep her balance and to make it look a little more real.

Not long later, John came into the cemetery. As Sherlock said, he was carrying a few flowers. He looked around, to make sure not many people saw him talk to the gravestone of his friend. He saw Kate, who looked like she was just thinking, but was watching him from the corner of her eye. As he talked, his usual routine set in place again. He pleaded for Sherlock to be alive, and that he'd come see him. Every single time, no matter how many times he'd been and done it before, he always shed a tear. One drop ran down his cheek and dropped onto the flowers. He sniffed and laid the flowers down. Kate slowly stood up, leaving the flowers on the grave. She kept her hand on the gravestone, and slowly started walking away, still watching John, who then also began heading towards the entrance of the cemetery.

The next day, she was sitting on the wooden bench at Covent Garden, holding another hot chocolate. Again, she didn't seem to notice Sherlock's arrival. He set something down, letting it lean on the bench. "I expect that you found the information needed," he said.  
"Of course I did," Kate replied, "He now lives in 3 Drury Lane and, as far as I know, on his own." She took a sip from her hot chocolate.  
"Thank you for finding that out for me. You obviously didn't spend the remaining money on something stupid."  
"I told you I wouldn't spend it on something stupid and I didn't."  
"Did you find out anything else?"  
"Nothing apart from the fact that he pleads for you to be alive."  
"Spare me the guilt. Would you be able to make sure his safety is secured?"  
"It depends."  
He lifted the acoustic guitar from its resting place beside the bench.  
"A guitar. What's it for?" She asked, inspecting the musical instrument.  
"It will make you look more presentable. People will accept you playing the acoustic guitar a lot more than if you're asking them to spare some change for you."  
"Something tells me you know this from experience but I'm going to ignore that. So what exactly do you want me to do?"  
"If I'm correct, there's a small alley in Drury Lane. Set up there, buy a tent or something or other with the money inside the guitar. Start making music, people will appreciate it and you can keep an eye on John at the same time."  
"And how am I going to make music-"  
Sherlock held up a bunch of loose music sheets for different songs, that he had managed to find and print.  
"Oh," Kate laughed.  
"It contains songs you enjoy and that John enjoys, also ones that are appropriate. Make sure there's a mix that isn't in a pattern."  
"It'll take me a while to learn how to play."  
"Oh, you're clever, you'll learn quickly. I've added my number into your phone. Text me when you find something."  
"Will do."


	3. Loneliness and Kindness

_**Bit of a short chapter, next one might be the same length, might not be, but I have a lot of mock exams coming up**_

Before she knew it, Kate was singing cheerful songs throughout the day on Drury Lane. She had bought a cheap tent and sleeping bag and had stuffed it all into a backpack. Now, her tent hid behind an empty bin. The large bin was always empty for some reason, she didn't know why. However, she liked playing the guitar, and people seemed to enjoy it too. Sherlock was right, people seemed to accept her more whilst she was making music, and therefore gave more spare change. She sometimes spotted John on the other side of the road, probably to go to his flat.

It was three when her job got a little easier. She was playing a song that Sherlock had chosen and printed. John walked past, then stopped, and walked back to her. "That's very good," he said.  
"Thanks," Kate replied whilst she kept strumming.  
"How long have you been here? I haven't really noticed you being here."  
"Oh, not long. I've been homeless for a while now, but some poor boy got homeless and I gave him my place."  
"That's really nice. Doesn't really happen in the world of houses and flats."  
Kate laughed and looked at her shoes for a moment before looking at John again.  
John looked at the girl in front of him. She seemed nice, and it would do no harm introducing himself. He stretched out a hand. "John. John Watson."  
Kate shook his hand a little."Kate Willows."  
"Nice to meet you, Kate. Anyway, I best be off, work to do. Oh, here you go." He rummaged in his pocket and dropped a few pound coins in her little cup.  
"Thanks," Kate said as John smiled at her then walked away.  
As usual, she texted Sherlock at 5 to update him.

_He's lonely_

It shouldn't be, but the fact that John seemed to be lonely bothered her. If he was able to become friends with Sherlock Holmes, who was reputedly the worst friend maker in the world, surely he could make friends with anyone he'd like. Or, maybe, John was just sad. She was just sat in her little tent, thinking about it. Her phone vibrated. She picked it up and read Sherlock's text.

_Covent Garden, 1pm tomorrow_

_-SH_


	4. Hot Chocolate

Kate hurriedly walked to Covent Garden, dumped her bag next to the bench and sat next to Sherlock. "You're late," he noted,  
"Only by five minutes," Kate defended, "There was a really long queue at Starbucks."  
Sherlock looked at the steaming cup of hot chocolate in the girl's hands. "You seem to be addicted to hot chocolate."  
"It keeps me warm! And keeps my level of endorphins high. It's not easy being cheerful on the streets all the time."  
"Fair enough."  
"Why did you want to meet me?"  
"I said keep an eye on John, not interact with him."  
"He came up to me. I did nothing but exchange pleasantries. He's obviously lonely if he's trying to interact with me."  
Sherlock gave out a little grunt in reply, which only irritated Kate.  
"What do you want me to do? You do realise this is a good way of knowing what is happening? He's obviously still upset about you being dead, even if you're not. It must be hard for him."  
"Spare me the guilt please."  
"Sorry, if you order information about John being lonely, the guilt that comes with it is necessary, and can't be returned."  
Sherlock looked at her, his icy eyes sparkling once more. "Your metaphors are interesting," he noted.  
"But their meaning is obvious and stays the same. Not hard to do if you read a lot of poetry."  
He had to stop himself from scoffing, it wasn't a situation in which he could scoff and get away with it. It seemed unlikely to him that homeless people were interested in things like that. "Poetry?"  
"My passion when I was a kid. Used to get poetry books as presents." A smile that was made of reminiscence came on her face, but sadness clung onto her eyes. There was a moment of silence between her and Sherlock, until she looked at him, the expression of sadness and memories wiped off her face. "So is that it? I really hope you understand that I might still interact with John if he wants me to, because you can't stop me."  
Sherlock looked at her for a second and smiled, before turning back and sighing. "Fine," he replied. "Just do me a favour and _don't_ get in trouble."  
Kate smiled at him, "If I did, it'd be on the news. If I know one thing, it's how to make a big fuss. Not that I do it often."  
With that she got up, grabbed her bag and walked off, leaving Sherlock. He had to admit, he rather liked talking to the girl, she had a different view on things. She was always rather energetic, and didn't mind snapping back at him. Must be a quality attained when homeless, or it was just natural. One way or another, talking to Kate was better than lurking in the shadows, talking to no one.

Kate came back to her little alley. For some reason, the owners of the two buildings that the alley was in the middle of, hadn't bothered her yet. She suspected Sherlock, which was probably the case. She dropped her bag a bit further into the alley, and got her guitar ready to play another song. She didn't notice John was just leaving his flat, and he noticed her beginning a song. "Afternoon, Kate," he greeted as he came near her.  
She shot up from tuning her instrument and smiled, "Hiya John."  
"I looked for you earlier, but you weren't there."  
"Oh, yeah, when I get enough I go to the shops near Starbucks, get something to eat and some hot chocolate. The queues are unbelievable, though. Is everything all right?"  
"Yeah, just not many people to talk to. I tend to get lonely."  
"Loneliness is hard, that's for sure. Everything always turns to be fine though."  
John looked at her, almost in wonderment. "Yeah, I suppose you're right. Anyway, need to go drop something off at a...friend's. See you later."  
Once again, he took out a few pound coins and put them in the little cup. Kate thanked him as he walked away. Poor man, she thought, he definitely has to be lonely to take such an interest in her. She started playing one of her motivating songs, and John looked back at her as she sang the lyrics. He must've thought the lyrics were fitting to what rubbish lives people had.


	5. Violence on Drury Lane

_**Even though this is a fairly short chapter, something quite important happens in this one. Also, I'm quite proud of having a new chapter two days in a row haha! Anyway, enjoy!**_

It had been a couple of weeks since she came on Drury Lane. Kate prepared her guitar again after she had gotten something to eat, when John passed her on the way over to his flat. "Hi, Kate," he greeted rather cheerfully as she got ready to play her guitar.  
She looked up. "Good afternoon, John. How are you?" Their conversations had also become more casual, and it made her think he must be so lonely to want to talk to her. He barely knew her, whilst he made the effort to talk to her almost every day if not every day.  
"Oh, I've seen better days," he replied in a dismissive sigh, "Bit of trouble at work. Not much, just a little, but even a little bit can ruin your day."  
Kate nodded, "I understand."  
"Anyway, I need to go and do something. See you later, Kate."  
"Bye, John," she said as he walked away. She started playing, and saw him look back whilst he waited at the crossing. Once on the other side, he went into his flat, like normal. Suddenly, a beast of a man, all in leather, knocked on John's door, a smaller but equally threatening, man standing next to him. Kate watched as she sang along with the notes of the guitar. John opened the door, and the men pushed him aside as they entered the flat.

Kate frowned as she continued to watch. John seemed friendly, and the men that just barged in didn't. At all. John looked confused and followed them. He also had no idea what was happening. That was all Kate could see, so she kept singing and playing guitar, secretly keeping an eye on John's flat. At one point, she thought she could see one of the thugs swipe the lamp from John's window, but she wasn't sure. It could've been something else, except all the negative possibilities easily topped the positive one or two.

Fifteen minutes later, Kate's worries had faded. The men must've just looked threatening, but actually weren't. Maybe they just wanted a follow up on something. She was still suspicious, of course she was, but now didn't show it. Well, that was until she saw the two large thugs stomp out of John's flat, but she couldn't see John at all. He had had some visitors whilst she'd been singing, and he often closed the door behind the leaving visitors with a smile. She couldn't help but fear the worst, quickly chucked her things in her tent before running to the puffin crossing by the traffic lights. Once she had crossed over, she ran to John's open door and knocked. "John?" She called. At least she wouldn't look like an idiot by knocking, but she couldn't judge at the moment. There was a groan from somewhere upstairs. Fearing the worst, Kate went up the stairs and soon spotted John on the floor. He had a bloody nose, but she couldn't see anything else wrong, except that he might have had a heavy blow. "John!" She exclaimed when she came to his side, and tucked some of her hair behind her ear.. "Kate," he managed to say with a strange sort of smile, "Am I glad to see you." She smiled in reply and got out her phone to call for an ambulance. Well, she thought, this was going to be an interesting evening.


	6. Night Terrors

Kate walked out of the hospital with John. They had been long enough for it to be dark now, and the doctors had said John had concussion and a broken nose. "Will you be able to pay for a taxi?" She asked carefully, "I would pay if I could..." "Yeah, that's fine," John replied as Kate supported him. Whatever the painkillers the doctors had given him, they had made him incredibly drowsy.

Once they got back to Drury Lane, Kate helped him to his flat. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" John asked as they came to his door. Kate laughed that he still had some concern for her, even though he was in a worse state. "No, not at all," she replied, "They were gone by the time I came. If they were still there, they'd be the ones worse off though." John managed to laugh, until turning it into a groan when his nose started to hurt. "You best be careful," Kate laughed. "Ah, I'll be fine," he assured, "Why don't you come in? Just for the night, my sofa's fairly comfortable. To say thank you." Kate smiled at him, "Thanks, but I think I'll be fine, you'll be fine too." She knew him a little better to think he would try anything, and he would suffer the consequences if he did. Plus, he wasn't really in the right state to do so. She needed to tell Sherlock what happened, and she didn't need John's kindness, even though it was a little tempting to be somewhere warm for a change. "Just to say thank you. Plus, I don't think I'd manage on my own," he said. Kate smiled at him, "OK, fine. Let me just get my stuff. Just to make sure."

A few minutes later, Kate found herself looking round John's flat. He kept it quite tidy, and it certainly looked clean. It seemed strange and new, but interesting all the same. "Just drop your things somewhere," John said quite casually. Kate gently dropped her bag and guitar next to the black leather sofa. She heard John groan again. "You need to get some rest," she said whilst laughing a little, "Almost getting knocked out must make you tired." John thought for a moment, "It does actually." "You'll have lost your appetite as well. I already had something to eat at the hospital. I'll be fine," she assured. John suspiciously looked at her, he wasn't sure about what to think of that. Maybe she was more experienced than she seemed, but that could mean different things. He smiled at her before going into his room.

John woke up two hours later with a rumbling stomach. He put his dressing gown on and sleepily walked through his living room before he noticed Kate, sound asleep on the sofa. Something about it made him feel happy, just to see someone sleep peacefully. He remembered the times after he got back from the army, the nightmares that he woke up from were terrible sometimes. They returned after Sherlock's suicide. Suddenly, her face contorted into a frown and an expression of fright, whilst she was still asleep. John worriedly watched as Kate tossed, turned and quietly seemed to whimper. It scared John as much as it confused him. He had no idea what he was meant to do. He awkwardly put a hand on her arm as she seemed to calm down. She choked out an involuntary sob, turned round again and buried her face in the cushion. John carefully returned to where he was standing. He concluded that that had all occurred in her sleep, or most of it. Must've been one hell of a nightmare. He returned on his route to the kitchen to fix himself a nightly portion of toast.

Once he got back from the kitchen, with his stomach now satisfied, Kate seemed to be calm again. He wondered if it had happened to her before, but then again, she might not know. His thoughts were disturbed by what sounded like the door being bashed down. He looked in the direction of the hallway, but couldn't see anything. Once the loud sound was made, Kate shot up, quickly looked at John and the hallway, then grabbed her guitar and waited just next to the door. Once she saw the approaching feet of the intruder, she swung the guitar, successfully hitting the person hard enough for them to fall to the ground. That was confirmed by the loud thud that followed. Both Kate and John looked into the hallway to see who the intruder was. It was the monster of a man that was likely to have been the one that attacked John. "Well, you certainly know how to make an impact on people," John joked as they analysed the man. "Oh, I have my way," Kate replied, "The guitar always makes people fall for me." John couldn't hold back the snigger that came from Kate's joke. "I'll call Lestrade. He'll hate having been woken up but you never know," John said as he grabbed his phone and searched for Lestrade's number.


	7. A Book's Cover

_**This chapter is just a bit in between, not much happens. The case I made up might not be brilliant so if you have any better suggestions, please let me know. Thanks and enjoy!**_

Kate looked around the police station. Even though they had been there for a while now, she still disliked it. It was dull, grey and drab. John finished talking to the man who was apparently DI Lestrade, but she didn't much care. All she wanted was to get out of there. She hated blandness,. music kept her seeing colour, especially when she was creating the music. Here, it was just pale walls and workaday lives. For that, she was glad she didn't have a job. "We need to quickly go to St Bart's," John said as he joined her again, a small pastry in his hand, "They need me to look at a suicide victim since I'm awake anyway. It won't take long but, Molly's got a night off for once." Kate smiled and nodded. She had a vague idea of what he was talking about when he said St Bart's, but had no clue who he was talking about when he said Molly.

They came to St Bart's with Lestrade accompanying them. "Do you want to come have a look?" John asked to Kate as they came by the morgue. "Sure," Kate replied, and saw Lestrade give John a suspicious stare. She tried to figure out why he gave him a stare like that, but didn't want to get too fussed about it. It was only a stare. "Joanne Whelan, 15. Her parents came home to find her hanging in her bedroom," Lestrade explained as they entered the cold room. John pulled the sheet down to reveal the girl's face and neck. Kate grimaced. "Poor girl," she said quietly.  
"Looks like a normal suicide," Lestrade said, "But her parents wanted to make sure."  
Kate frowned and tilted her head to the side, "Have you got a magnifier or something?"  
John and Lestrade looked at each other, confused. John passed a little magnifier to her, "Here."  
Kate came closer to the girl's neck, and saw horizontal marks from where the cloth was. "John, look." She passed him the magnifier and stood back as John took her place.  
"The stretch marks?" He asked, confused at what Kate wanted him to see.  
"They're horizontal."  
"So?" Lestrade asked, not seeing the point.  
Kate looked at the policeman. "So, she didn't commit suicide. I don't know how you can miss that with experience. Have you ever seen a girl so emotionally unstable be able to tie the cloth so tight to make horizontal marks on her neck?"  
"Surely she would do it the normal way people do?"  
"Exactly. You'd get faint diagonal marks, not horizontal. She was killed just before she was hung."  
John looked at Kate in wonderment, "That's amazing."  
"I used to watch a lot of crime shows. I think this was a case on one of them. I'm guessing there'll be epithelial tissue on the cloth she was hanged by, right?"  
"I'll go check that out," Lestrade said. He took his phone out of his pocket and headed for the exit.  
Kate smiled at John, "Not bad for an amateur, eh?"  
John returned the smile. "Not at all. Come on, I'm shattered. I'm sure Lestrade's gonna be busy enough without me getting in the way."


	8. Chat and Toast

_**This chapter should've been finished earlier, but yesterday I had a day off typing because of some stuff, so, sorry. Anyway, this chapter is a bit in-between events. The next one will be a little more eventful, this one's mainly Kate and John chatting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**_

"How can you eat so much?" Kate asked with amusement as she watched John wolf down his third plate of toast.  
"It's very easy when you haven't eaten a lot," he replied with some still in his mouth, "How come you're not hungry?"  
"I don't get a lot of money so I don't have a lot of chances to have normal portions of food. Since it's been a while since I did, I've gotten used to it," she explained.  
"I've been meaning to ask you, why are you homeless?"  
"Oh, you know, the usual. My mum got a new boyfriend and, well, let's just say he was way too interested in me. I did the guitar trick on him, he made a big fuss about it and told my mum. Mum had a massive go at me so I packed what I needed and left."  
John frowned. "Won't she be worried about you?"  
"I left home about 7 months ago. Surely if she was worried I'd have seen it in the discarded papers or something. But no, she'll probably be snogging her boyfriend and bothering about what she'll wear for a night out, not worrying about where I am or what I'm doing. Plus, I have actually got my old phone, with my old number. She could've sent a text or called me to see if I was all right, but, nothing."  
"That must be hard for you."  
Kate nodded. "It is sometimes, but I get through it. How about you? Why are you all on your own?"  
"I'm not really the perfect flatmate. I did share a flat with a man called Sherlock Holmes, you might have read about him. I also used to work with him but he committed suicide and I could just not bring myself to do anything but move out. I've been demotivated from doing anything. I have no love life or anything, plus, Sherlock kind of ruined that anyway."  
"Do you miss him?"  
"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I do. It's not easy."  
"I understand."  
John smiled. He hadn't talked properly to someone for a while, except his therapist. Kate took a casual interest in him, and he had to admit he was rather interested in her too. "So did you watch a lot of crime shows when you weren't homeless, then?"  
"Yeah, they were my favourite. Used to watch them all the time. I'm not a girl that people would call normal. I'm not obsessed with make up, celebrities in glossy magazines, boys, soap operas or soppy films. Give me a James Bond or Indiana Jones film any day instead of that sort of rubbish."  
John laughed. "I'm not surprised, you don't seem like that sort of girl. I have to go to work later, would you like to come? You could help. Plus, it gets a little dull being on my own or sharing small talk with Molly."  
"No thanks. I have some stuff to do. Oh, and I'm not surprised you find it a bit dull. The morgue and the police station look like they'd benefit from a splash of colour. I wonder why people working there haven't gone mad with boredom."  
John chuckled, making Kate smile. "Yeah, well, it's not really that. Just not many people to talk to."  
"You could end up like Ducky on NCIS. He usually chats to the corpses, or to himself, I can never figure out which, whilst he's working."  
"Ooh, if that happened I _would _be going mad. If you do notice me talking to corpses, please point it out."  
Kate smiled, "Will do. By the way, why _did _those men come into your flat? You don't seem like the sort of man who would do something that would attract bad attention."  
"Ah. According to them, Sherlock is still alive. They thought I knew where he was, but I didn't. So they went through my flat to find clues to where Sherlock apparently is, because they thought I was lying, then gave me a heavy blow to the head. Sherlock isn't alive. He can't...be alive. I was there when he, um..."  
She sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. She could see it was hard for him, that it had been hard for him, and that the men hadn't helped one little bit. "It's OK," she said gently as John breathed deeply to keep himself calm. He was still sad, still caught up about Sherlock's fake suicide, and she couldn't tell him that Sherlock was alive. She couldn't under the circumstances, and she doubted she would tell him otherwise. Telling him now would mean his mind was at ease, but it would mean he'd be in more danger, and she'd have a lot to answer to.  
"Sorry," John said, and smiled at her.  
"It's fine, honestly. It must be hard," Kate replied with a comforting smile.  
"I'll go put these in the dishwasher," he said as he picked the plates up.  
Kate watched him go to the kitchen and got out her phone to text Sherlock. She was rather surprised she had no texts despite her forgetting to update him at 5pm yesterday. In her defence, she had a busy day to say the least.

_Eventful day, can't chat over text._

_12pm, Covent Garden._

She pressed send and dropped her phone back in her pocket. She was sure Sherlock would be interested in what had happened. After all, he wanted her to make sure John was OK.


	9. The Rich Man

_**This chapter may be a little dodgy, but I didn't exactly know how it could end. Initially, it was going to be Mycroft Holmes who Kate met in the coffee shop, but I decided to make it part of a plot which has yet to be fully developed...Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. The next update might come a little later because next week is busy for me with the Christmas fair and stuff. Anyway, have fun reading!**_

Kate came to Covent Garden again. John had allowed her to use his shower, and she was grateful for that. She could see why Sherlock cared for John, he was nice and kind, there weren't a lot of people who were like that. Sherlock came to the bench just after 12. "I'm a busy man, this better ought to be worth it," he grumbled as he sat down.  
"Ooh, sorry!" Kate retorted.  
"Why did you want to talk to me?"  
"Because John got hurt."  
Sherlock instantly turned to her, a cold but fearful look in his pale eyes. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean two men barged into his flat, messed it up and almost knocked him out."  
"Do you know who it is?"  
"Don't worry, one of the men is in custody. He broke into John's flat again that night, but I hit him on the head with my guitar."  
Sherlock smiled, then it turned into a frown. "How did you manage that?"  
"Do I really need to tell you?"  
"Considering your hair has recently been washed and you're not carrying anything with you except a new set of keys which I assume are John's spare keys, I'd say he let you sleep there for the night, correct?"  
"Correct. He insisted after I helped him back from the hospital. Sorry."  
"No, I'm glad you were there to protect him. Otherwise, it would be a lot worse. There's something else, what?"  
"They were looking for clues to find out where you are."  
"What?"  
"Someone knows you're still alive. They thought John knew too, and told him. He didn't believe them, be glad of that. I don't think the problem is over yet, though."  
"You may be right. I'll try to eradicate the problem, and thank you."  
"Thanks for what?"  
"For looking after John, and I can see you intend to ensure his safety for longer. And for sparing me the guilt."  
"All right. I think that's it, the rest you've probably already deduced. Bye."  
She stood up and walked away, heading back to Drury Lane. She wondered how Sherlock could deduce the way he did, but that was his little special something. Everyone had that special something. Sherlock just had a unique one.

Kate walked past the Starbucks, then stopped. She didn't need the warmth, but there was just something good about getting a steaming cup of hot chocolate. And she did have an eventful day to say the least. She joined the longer than usual queue of people after going in, keeping the door open for a man who she thought would be more suited to go to an incredibly expensive restaurant for lunch, since his dress sense showed he was almost definitely a rich man. He gave her a polite smile, which she returned uncomfortably. She didn't like rich men, full stop. They tended to spend more than what she assumed a commuter would earn, about every day. How anyone could live with that was beyond her, unless they simply added more money to forget about that fact, which she just found even more ignorant.

She ordered her drink and was about to pay, when the rich man interjected. "Oh, and a tea please," he added to what she had ordered, and gave the man behind the counter a £10 note. Kate smiled at the man who started working on the order and moved to the little waiting area, soon discovering that the rich man was right behind her. She turned around and crossed her arms, looking at the man. That was the first sign of female anger, and also the natural posture she had when she was annoyed. If he didn't start explaining soon, she _would _go on to the tapping o' the feets*. "I'm perfectly able to pay for my own drinks, thank you," she said, irritated. "According to my sources, only occasionally," the man countered, stressing the word 'occasionally'.  
Kate frowned at him, "Your sources?"  
"Don't be suspicious, I have a senior role in a very important company."  
She sniggered. A man with a senior job title wouldn't be seen dead in a café like this, but it did explain his idiotic dress sense. "Why would a man working in a high position pay for my drink? And what would that man be doing in a Starbucks?"  
"I have my reasons."  
She sniggered again, and took her hot chocolate. "Thanks for paying, but no thanks. Why did you pay for me anyway? As I told you, I can pay for it myself. Otherwise I wouldn't have come in in the first place."  
The man gave her an amused smile, which made her want to roll her eyes. "You gave me a nice smile, something I don't often get."  
Kate scoffed, "That's it?" Well, if you're going to dress as a posh ponce, you can expect not everyone to give you a smile, and people to ignore you more than they would ignore 'normal' people.  
"Yes."  
"Well then, thanks again. I need to go." And with that, she went out of the shop, leaving the rich man standing awkwardly in the Starbucks, with a raised eyebrow. She knew the rich man had wanted a conversation. Why else would he pay? She wouldn't normally be that rude, but she was tired. With her home being a little tent, she tended to sleep from sunset to sunrise, but last night she only had a few hours before hitting a man on the head with her guitar. She couldn't help but smirk at that, that was one of those moments people tended to boast about. Now she had her own. She wasn't going to bother about the rich man. All she wanted was to make sure she was back by the time John came back, not wanting to risk the chance of looking suspicious.

*A reference to a Terry Pratchett book. "She folded her arms...the next stage of female anger would be the tapping o' the feets, which generally led them to burst into tears and walk into trees." Just in case you didn't pick up on that.


	10. Memories

_**OK guys, I massively apologise for my lack of updating. I caught the flu last week and I'm still recovering from that. Also, December is naturally quite a busy time, and I have exams coming up. I'll try my best to update more throughout the holidays. This chapter is a bit of a drabble again, just some chatter between John and Kate, but I need to find my way to a good storyline before I do something interesting in a chapter haha. Good thing is, whilst I'm typing, the next bit pops into my head. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!**_

"I bought pizza since I've not got much in the fridge. I don't know what you like so I brought cheese and tomato..." John said as he came into his flat, but let his sentence trail off as he saw Kate eating on the sofa. "Hi John," she greeted, "I hope you don't mind that I made dinner. It's a lot easier to do if you have an actual kitchen. I made some for you." She set her plate that contained a half eaten pancake down on the little coffee table and got a plate with two pancakes from John's cramped kitchen. "Thank you," he said as she gave the plate to him, "You didn't have to do that."  
"You let me stay at your flat. This is my thank you to you."  
"You made sure I was OK after I kind of got attacked and you hit a man round the head the guitar for me. I think I'm in your debt."  
Kate giggled, "It was fun making the pancakes."  
"Must be," John replied as he stuffed it in his mouth, "It's really good."  
"Thank you. I've known how to make them since I was little. The information kind of stuck."  
"I suppose there's not much else to think about when you're, you know, homeless."  
"Yeah. Your friend, Sherlock, who committed suicide, do you miss him a lot? You always seem to be on your own. You must get lonely."  
"Yeah, I do. Sherlock drove me mad with his violin playing and shooting and his arrogance but at the same time, I miss his company. I moved out from where I lived with Sherlock after he died. Too many memories."  
Kate nodded in understanding, then frowned. "What do you mean 'his shooting'?"  
"Oh, when he got bored, he tended to get out his gun and shoot the wall. Or deface it in other ways. He painted a massive big smiley face on it too."  
Kate laughed. The great detective even had his flaws, and seemingly rather large ones.  
"Oh yeah and there's his nit picking...He could find out the flaws in a person he met within an instant...I still don't know how he did it. There's no one like him. There _was _no one like him. He was a genius." John's tone became more soft as he went into old memories he had pushed away. They didn't really make him sad, they just made him wish Sherlock was still alive. _The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. _Sherlock was a whole pile of bad things, but it hadn't taken John long to figure out that he had a few good things too, and while the bad things tended to make him forget the good things, they were still there. Now it just made John remember. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Kate, "It's forecasted to rain. You can stay for another night if you like." Kate kept him company, and he was almost certain she needed a bit of company every now and then too. She was always nice to him, but she also always seemed to be alone.  
Kate raised her eyebrows. "Can I? Thank you, you don't have to do that."  
"I don't want a friend out in the rain if I can help it. Plus, you made dinner, allow me to show you to my entertainment. There's always a crime show on one channel or another."  
Kate chuckled. Yeah, friend. She liked that word. Not acquaintance or companion, they sounded all too formal and detached, but friend was fine. "Sounds good," she replied.


	11. Pain in Rain

_**OK, I found my way to a good storyline, and here it is! I got the idea of the needle thing from A Scandal in Belgravia, because I decided to watch that recently. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's a bit short, next chapter will be here soon!**_

John came into his living room in the morning and smiled. Kate was asleep again. He got ready for work, and quickly scribbled down the hospital's phone number and instructions if she was going to call. Just in case. He had a feeling those men would be looking around again, and it was just in case there was any trouble that Kate couldn't handle. He put it on the little coffee table so she could see it, just to make sure. He put his coat on and turned out the collar. The forecast was right, it was raining cats and dogs outside. He never understood that expression...He got ready to face the weather and went outside to get a cab to his work.

Not fifteen minutes later, two men managed to get into John's flat. "No sign of him," the rather lanky man said as he looked through the rooms, "He's already gone, I told you!" "But his friend isn't," the other, more bulky man replied, "And I think she could help..." The lanky man went back out of John's flat, and the other man got closer to Kate. At that point, she woke up, staring into the face of the intruder. She sat up and kicked him in the part that hurt him the most, and made him groan and fall back, breaking the small coffee table. She decided her priority was to get out, and headed to the door before seeing the lanky man coming. She hid by the door, and saw the injured intruder signal something. She frowned in misunderstanding, but groaned as she was stabbed with a needle. She looked at the little thing, and then looked at the man who was allowing the fluid in the needle to enter her blood system. Once he took the needle out, Kate tried to run, but was caught by the lanky man. "Let me go!" She commanded weakly, but the lanky man just smiled at her as she tried to stay conscious. The man picked her up as she lost the battle with consciousness. "She's rather skinny," the lanky man stated, "Can we contact Dr Watson?" The injured man struggled to get up then looked around, and smiled as he spotted the little piece of paper with John's instructions. "Oh yes," he replied smugly, "Come on."

John just started another autopsy when Molly came in. "John," she said, "There's a phone call for you." John frowned. A phone call? Then he realised. Something must've happened. He ran and picked up the phone. "Hello Dr Watson," a voice said at the other end, "I think you should make sure your friend is OK." Before the person could continue, John hung up and got his coat. "Molly, I have to go check up on my friend," he said as Molly watched him rush about. Molly nodded in reply as John sped out.

John almost jumped out of the taxi as it got to his flat. He hurriedly went in then searched and shouted for Kate. He frowned as he saw the broken coffee table, and the fact that Kate's coat was still there. He picked up an unfamiliar piece of paper and read what it said. He got out his phone and dialled a number. "Lestrade, it's John. I'm going to need your help," he said as Lestrade picked up.


	12. The Dark in the Day

_**Well, here is the next chapter! I couldn't help but add a little NCIS reference, it just kind of made writing it a little easier. Enjoy!**_

Kate woke up groggy on a stone cold floor, and remembered the last thing she could. She tried to sit up, but collapsed again. She looked around whilst she lay on the floor. Wherever she was, was bleak and small. It wasn't hard to figure out she was in a cupboard. Locked in a cupboard by the looks of it. She noticed the camera on the ceiling of the cupboard, and sat herself up. "I know you can hear me. Where's John?" She asked, the drowsiness affecting her voice massively. A little red light flashed, and a woman's voice spoke, "Don't worry, he's on his way." "No. Where am I? Is he alright?" Kate asked. She was worried about John, how could she not be? "You won't get any answers, so bye bye now," the voice said in reply, and the light stopped flashing. "No!" Kate weakly shouted, "Come back!" She sighed and leaned her back on the wall, she could feel a spell of weakness coming on again. A few minutes later, someone came in, with a familiar object. "No, don't you dare!" Kate commanded as the vague person came closer to her with the sharp object. Once again, she groaned as she was injected with the strange fluid again, just a smaller amount this time. "Sweet dreams," a teasing, high voice said as Kate's eyes closed. The person pulled out the needle as Kate fell to the ground, and left the cupboard, locking it behind them.

John quickly came to the address the note had said. A disused building. Brilliant. He was going to go inside, when someone with their face hidden grabbed his arm. John frowned as the man led him into the building, still holding on to John's arm. The inside of the building was dark and badly lit, but John could make out two figures who were standing in the middle of the building..  
"We have a friend of yours," a woman's voice said as the rather rotund person brought John further into the empty building.  
"Where is she? Is she OK?" John asked, worried about Kate. The figures became more clear as he came closer to them. It was a woman with pitch black hair and also a tall man with spiky blonde hair. They made him feel odd in some way, but he couldn't put his finger on it.  
"See for yourself," the woman replied, and nodded to the man.  
John frowned, and his frown got even deeper when Kate was almost dragged in by the man. Knowing her, he knew she would at least fight to be dragged at least, but she simply looked weak and drained. "What's wrong with her, what have you done to my friend?"  
"Oh, don't worry, we just gave her something to make sure she's...well let's just say calm," the woman unsuccessfully assured, "Now, down to business. Where's Sherlock Holmes?"  
"I don't know."  
"Not good enough!" The woman nodded at the man who was holding Kate.  
The man pointed a gun at Kate' left temple. Kate breathed quicker as the person cocked the gun. She could make out the voices, but her vision was blurred. "Tell us where he is or your pretty friend here will get a bullet through her head," the woman smugly threatened.  
"You're not hurting her. You're not going to get anything out of this, because I don't know where Sherlock is and soon all this will be over," John replied, answering to the threat with nerves of steel.  
"Well then, John Watson, why are you so confident of that?"  
"Greg," John replied with a smile.  
Kate frowned and mouthed the name. Who was Greg?  
John knew Kate didn't understand, so looked for something else, then found the right one. "McGee."  
Kate smiled. Now she understood. The woman squinted at John, pulled out an expensive smartphone and started typing. She stopped, and intently stared at John before the phone bleeped. She watched the screen, read the message, put it back and looked at John again. "The most important man called Greg McGee is a lecturer at a university. How's he going to help you?" She asked, a smug grin on her face. John and Kate giggled at the woman's mistake. "What's funny?"  
"Well, Kate would be able to tell you if you hadn't _drugged her_!" John replied, making the woman raise her eyebrows, willing to listen, "McGee is a character in a TV show called NCIS. He's clever, but an idiot. Nevertheless, he _is _reliable. His full title is Special Agent McGee. Now, my friend Greg is a bit of a special agent because _he's_-"  
"Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade," Kate said, finishing John's sentence for him.  
At that moment, a team of trained policemen ran in via all the entrances of the empty building. "Right! Drop your guns!" Lestrade ordered as most of the people that were surrounded held up their hands. Kate sighed as the person who was holding a gun to her head, dropped it and was arrested within an instant. Soon, those who had created the trouble, were arrested and taken away. John hurriedly went to Kate and hugged her.  
"Oh, OK. A hug," she said, surprised at the sudden embrace.  
"Are you alright?" He asked as he looked over her.  
"I've been better," she replied.  
Lestrade walked up to them. "How is everything? Not too bad I hope." He looked at Kate, who looked like she was about to collapse. "What's wrong with her?" He asked, frowning as he watched the girl try to stay awake.  
"It's all fine, I suppose but it's likely she's been drugged. She's not usually like this," John replied as he supported Kate.  
"Come on, I think we should get her to a hospital. Get her checked out."


	13. Dazes and Dreams

_**Not much happens in this chapter, mainly because it's sort of Kate's POV and she's still recovering from what happened. Well, I hope you enjoy it!**_

Kate turned around with the duvet wrapped around her. She frowned and opened her eyes, smiled, and closed them again. Then, she reopened them and shot up, sleepily looking around the strange room. At that moment, John came in. "You're up," he noted. "Yeah," Kate replied, "Where am I?"  
"Oh, they said you should have plenty of rest. The sofa isn't the comfiest for that."  
"This is your room."  
"Yes. Don't worry, I'm fine on the sofa. I've slept in worse places."  
"So have I. Every night for about seven months until you let me sleep on your sofa. Thank you. What happened?"  
"You don't remember?"  
"It's all a bit of a blur. I know I was drugged. Sorry about your coffee table."  
"How do you know it's broken?"  
Kate grinned, "What do you think happened? Did you really think I'd get taken without giving them a fight?"  
John smiled, heard a noise in the other room, left, and soon came back holding Kate's phone. "Your phone's been going mad by the way. Someone's worried about you, I think," he said, and chucked it to her, "It might be because it was on the news."  
Kate looked away from her phone and up to John, "What?"  
"Someone got it out. I'll leave you be, you need some rest. Just give me a shout when you want some water or something. The drugs need to get out of your system. You had a fatal dose, you're lucky to be alive. By the way, you're coming with me to my work when you're better. You're not safe on your own here."  
"OK. Thank you, John."  
John smiled at her again and went out of the room.

Kate unlocked her phone and called Sherlock. "You can relax now. I'm fine," she said once he had picked up.  
"You should've responded earlier. Goodness knows what could've happened," Sherlock snapped at the other end.  
"I've been almost fatally drugged, I think that's a good enough excuse, don't you think?" Kate argued sleepily. She wasn't going to give in that quickly, no matter what.  
"I suppose. How's John?"  
"He's fine. He doesn't seem fazed by any of it. Is that normal for him?"  
"Yes, he used to be in the army. I think he quite likes the thrill of it, same as me. How is your condition?"  
"Why would _you _want to know?"  
"You are looking after my friend, it's important you are in a good state to do so."  
"Thank you, and it's more like he's looking after me. I didn't intend for that to happen-"  
"Oh, that's John all over. The day after we met, he shot someone for me."  
Kate chuckled, "I'm guessing you covered for him?"  
"Correct."  
"You two are very sweet together."  
"Don't get any ideas!"  
"I was just saying! I think it's very nice how you two swap favours."  
"Ah, yes, I apologise. Anyway, we have to meet. You need to get me all the details of what happened."  
"I can't-"  
"Ah, yes, of course," Sherlock interjected in a sigh, kicking himself inside for missing the obvious, "John is very protective, probably even more so after my apparent suicide. He's tagging you along isn't he?"  
"Yes."  
"Enjoy it. It should be interesting for you, and you never know, you might get something good out of it."  
Kate frowned, "What do you mean?"  
"Not sure. I will clarify later, not now. John will be suspicious if you chat too much. Make sure you update me as much as possible. Oh, and don't worry about the people that um...drugged you, etc. I'll deal with them. Sleep well, Kate." Sherlock hung up  
Kate put down her phone and sighed. She felt so useless. When she felt useless before, she'd just walk around, but she doubted she had enough strength to, and if she could go just on her own. She felt tired _again_. One thing was for sure, she hated the loss of control over her body, and the fact that she couldn't remember what had happened at all, except before she got drugged. That was it. John's work would be interesting to watch though...


	14. Bullets of Ice

_**Sorry this took a while. I had writer's block and then got a half decent idea. I've made up a case again, I have no idea where it came from but I'm pretty sure Abby once mentioned ice bullets in NCIS, but I can't for the life of me remember the episode haha. Anyway, I think the story is soon coming to a close. I might write a sequel, but I'm not 100% certain on it. If you have any ideas on what you would like in the story, please don't be afraid to put it forward. I'm a little stuck myself haha, the next chapter might take a while because I have exams and I'm not sure how to set it out. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate looked around the lab as John took off his coat, collected the files and read the top one. "I might be a while with these," he said as he looked through it, "Someone's had one hell of a death, but then again that's only one of them. Molly should be in, she'll be racing around the place like usual. She'll keep you company, she's nice." Kate just nodded. She still didn't feel herself. A good walk around London was in order, but then the paranoia would set in. She hated feeling absolutely useless and that was all she felt for virtually an entire day. "Hello, John," Molly greeted cheerfully as she came in. "Morning, Molly," John returned, "This is Kate, she's a friend of mine." Molly smiled at Kate, "Nice to meet you." Kate quickly returned the smile, then returned to looking around."I best get to work," John said, heading to the other door, "You'll be alright here, right Kate?" Kate nodded again, and John smiled at her before disappearing into the autopsy room.

A few hours later, Kate sat on one of the chairs in the lab, watching as Molly analysed a blood sample. She had had lunch with John, but after that he had disappeared again. It was fun watching people hurry about, but she still felt rather useless. John came into the lab and came to Molly to see how her work was going, and how long it would take. "It's going to take a while," Molly replied sombrely, "Are you stuck?" "Yeah," John answered quickly, "I'd need Sherlock for this one. I guess I'll have to do with what I have. Kate, would you like to give me a hand?" Kate looked up and smiled at John, "Sure." She took off her thick coat and followed John into the autopsy room, whilst Molly looked bemused. Kate had gotten used to John's talk of Sherlock, but he hadn't spoken to Molly about his former flatmate at all.

Kate frowned. "It's like the murderer did everything they could to put him in...well, a lot of pain," she noted. She'd seen enough gory deaths on crime shows to be shocked at the almost unrecognisable body, but it was still worth a grimace. "He could've died from two wounds at the same time, but we can't know that for certain. He lost a hell of a lot of blood, that's for sure," John said, explaining his predicament. "What about bullets? He's been shot, hasn't he?" Kate asked. "There aren't any. Even though he's obviously been shot, well, a lot, there aren't any bullets to be found, yet there are no exit wounds," John explained.  
"How's that possible?"  
John paused for a while, then found a decent thought, "I think we should consider ice bullets."  
"Ice bullets? I thought they were impossible."  
"Apparently not. If ice bullets aren't part of it at all, then I don't know what is."  
"Is it possible that the bullets were taken out before the body was found?"  
"No, I don't think so. I'll tell Lestrade anyway, maybe he'll find something." Suddenly, Lestrade came in. John turned around to see who it was, then turned back to Kate. "Speak of the devil," he said quietly, making Kate laugh.  
Lestrade frowned, "Did I miss something?"  
"No, not at all," John replied simply with a cheerful smile, "Why are you here? You barely pay visits to the morgue."  
"Just wanted to see how you were, and if you've gotten any further with that murder," the detective explained.  
"We think he was shot with ice bullets," Kate said.  
"Ice bullets? How's _that _possible?"  
"Don't know, but it's the most likely conclusion out of all of them. You could find out who makes them, see if one of your suspects bought some ice bullets."  
"Well then, thank you. That gets us started at least. Could you both come with me? I still need to write the report. I know you weren't exactly in a good state to answer any questions right after it happened but I need to get it sorted. Right about now."  
"Of course," John agreed, "Are you alright with that Kate?"  
"I'll try to remember as much as I can," Kate replied, trying to sound enthusiastic about going from one bleak place to another.  
"I'll just, well, put everything back," John said, and fully covered the man's dead body.  
Lestrade went back into the lab, as did Kate. Kate put on her coat and looked at her phone. One text, from Sherlock. _Update me ASAP, from now on do so whenever something strange happens_. Kate frowned. That was a bit odd, even by his standards if what John told her was anything to go by. She rapidly sent a text back then dropped her phone back into her coat pocket. Something about Sherlock's text unsettled her, she didn't know what, but it was just strange.


	15. Drops and Yells

_**This chapter is kind of building up to it now. I think it'll be the next chapter or the chapter afterwards. Sorry this is fairly small but my mind is set on revision for my two upcoming exams haha. Anyway, enjoy!**_

"Why a little café?" Kate asked as they stepped inside a small coffee shop.  
"I don't know," Lestrade replied, "It's close by and is usually pretty quiet."  
"It looks good enough. I'll go get us something," John said, and went to the man behind the counter.  
Kate sat down, opposite to Lestrade, and instinctively started fidgeting with her sleeves. She had always done that when she felt uncomfortable, and this didn't feel comfortable in any way. Sherlock's text was niggling in the back of her mind. Something was just odd about it.  
"So, what happened? From your point of view, I mean," Lestrade asked.  
"I was sleeping," Kate started, "Two men broke into John's flat. I tried to defend myself, hence the broken coffee table but-" She suddenly took out her phone and frowned as it buzzed. Sherlock was calling her. "Sorry, I won't be a minute," she said, smiling at the detective. She answered it as she stood up, and walked out of the café. There was silence at the other end. That was even more odd. "Sherlock?" She asked, worried. Kate jumped as Sherlock's phone must have dropped onto the floor, as it made a loud clattering noise. There was shouting, and it seemed like a fight was happening on the other end. "Kate!" Sherlock's, oddly strained, voice shouted a good thirty seconds later, well enough for her to hear. He shouted a few random words, and then the call stopped. "Kate, are you alright?" John asked as he joined her. Kate looked at her phone, confused, then looked up at John. "There's something going on, and I'm not sure about it, but I think someone's in trouble," she replied. John frowned, "What do you mean?" "Someone called me. Got the wrong number," she lied, "It sounds like they're in trouble."  
"What? Normal trouble or crime show trouble?"  
"Crime show trouble."  
"Oh dear. Have you got any idea where they might be?"  
"A vague one," she replied, then smiled, "You've missed stuff like this haven't you?"  
"Hell yes, and even a vague idea is a start. Come on, Lestrade might help."  
They hurried inside, and Lestrade looked up at them with his mouth almost full of cake. Kate sniggered a little and John smiled in amusement at the detective, who quickly swallowed it. "What's wrong?" Lestrade asked with a frown.  
"Kate thinks someone's been kidnapped," John explained simply.  
"John, you know that's not my division."  
Kate raised an eyebrow and looked at John, who sighed in reply.  
Lestrade looked at the two, and then sighed, "Fine. I'll help. What have you actually got?"


	16. Clarity in the Clouds

_**Hello! Sorry this chapter's a bit vague, but I find it really hard to be creative sometimes haha. The next chapter will be a big one (Perhaps not in size, more in content) and I'll leave you with that. It might not be updated all too soon as I have an exam next week and the week after. Anyway, enjoy!**_

"This is impossible," Lestrade sighed as they looked at the map of London, "There are hundreds of places around the city that includes that it could be, and none are certain. It's going to take ages and we won't have that long."  
"We must have interpreted it wrong," Kate reasoned.  
"We looked at it every single way we can. There aren't any reasonable outcomes," Lestrade argued.  
"We'd need Sherlock for this," John commented.  
"Well we haven't got Sherlock, he's dead!"  
The detective earned a scolding look from Kate, and he immediately apologised. Kate knew how hurt John still was about Sherlock's death, and maybe Lestrade had gotten over it, but it certainly wasn't helping John.  
"We have to be missing something!" Kate sighed, frustrated that she couldn't figure it out She rubbed her eyes and forehead with both her hands, as if she was trying to clear up the fog that was hanging above the solution.  
"Are you OK?" John asked her. She looked a bit odd to him, and he didn't know how.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured after yawning, "Just a little tired."  
"You mean a lot, don't you?" He asked, smiling a little.  
"Maybe, but there's nothing wrong with that," she defended as well as she could.  
John chuckled, "Come on. You're not Sherlock Holmes. Plus, I think we all need some sleep."  
Kate smiled at her friend, and got her coat.

...

"John, can I borrow your laptop?" Kate asked as John sleepily trudged into his living room.  
"Sure. What do you need it for?" He asked, curious about her train of thought.  
"I think I may have found something," Kate replied.  
"Really? Tell me."  
"The words. Maybe they're not directions but something else," she suggested, rummaging her mind for answers.  
"What do you think that someone else is then?" John asked as he crossed to his laptop to start it up.  
"I'm not sure. A poem perhaps? All I know is what you know. There's a link between the words that we haven't figured out yet and once we do, we can help."  
"So you're not sure, all you'll be doing is typing words into a browser?"  
"Yeah that was the plan," she said, reconsidering what she wanted to do, "Have you got any other ideas?"  
"Not really," John admitted, "It's worth a try though."  
Kate smiled as he typed on his laptop and scrolled.  
"Have you found anything" She asked curiously as he continued to scroll.  
"Not sure," he replied, frowning, "Come and have a look."  
Kate stood behind him, watching the laptop screen as he scrolled down.  
"There," she suddenly said. John scrolled back up a little until Kate pointed at the screen, "Have a look at that one."  
John clicked on the link and raised an eyebrow as he read the poem.  
"See? All the words are there."  
"Apart from the last stanza."  
"Apart from the last stanza," Kate repeated, "Because that would give it away. The last stanza has all the directions that we need."  
"Kate, that's absolutely brilliant!"  
"Thank you! Now we need to find out exactly where it is."  
"I think I can help with that. I ran around a lot around London and God knows where else. I know exactly where to start."  
"Brilliant!"  
"I'll call Lestrade, see if he'll help us."


	17. A Surprise In the Trouble

_**Well, here it is! I've been planning this chapter for a bit. Sorry it isn't all to brilliant but anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**_

John groaned as he put his phone down. "What's wrong?" Kate asked as she put her scarf round her neck. "Lestrade's caught up in another case," John replied in a sigh, then walked up to a cupboard and started rummaging. "So what do we do?"  
"We do it ourselves," John replied as he continued looking, "Someone needs our help and we'll help them no mater what. Could be dangerous though."  
"Nothing wrong with dangerous."  
"You're right there. Ah! There it is!" He turned around, holding his spare gun triumphantly. He always had his own on him, but eh held a spare one – the one that used to belong to Sherlock – just in case, and because he couldn't bear to throw something else of Sherlock's away. He swore he still had that bloody violin somewhere...  
"What's that for?"  
"Well, I always have mine, and you never know."  
"I can't shoot a gun!"  
"Just take it. I want you to be safe."  
"I have fists and feet to do that."  
"Yeah but fists and feet only work from close by. Just take it."  
Kate gingerly took the gun and looked at it. "OK then, where are we off to?"  
John smiled and grabbed his coat, "Not an all too nice place but it'll be fine."

…

John and Kate walked around the corner. It was a deprived area of London. Houses were half standing, cracks everywhere. Underneath each house's murky white curtains was, well the universe knew, but they were always closed for whatever activity. It made them both wonder whether the rooms hidden by the curtains had ever seen the sun. "So it's this one then?" Kate asked as they stopped by one of the houses. "Yeah, that's it. I think," John replied as they looked at the house, "You ready?"  
"I think," Kate answered, unsure if she was ready for whatever may be found inside, "It's kind of detective-y. It's a little fun that way but still seems scary. Are you?"  
"Definitely. It's been a while but I've missed stuff like this. Come on."  
They came to the door, and John knocked on it, just to make sure. Nothing. He glanced at Kate, who uncertainly looked at him. He gave her a small smile in assurance, and kicked the door open. "Doesn't seem to be anyone home," John said as they came in. He went into the room closest to him, and suddenly groaned in pain. "You all right?" Kate asked concernedly. "Yeah," John replied in a groan, "I think whoever did this booby-trapped the house. Be careful."  
"Will do," she assured, then went into a room further away and looked out the open window, "They've run off. Left the window open."  
"You go have a look upstairs. I'll make sure no one's over here."  
"OK," Kate replied. She located the stairs and ran up them.  
John groaned and brushed himself off as he stood up after he tripped. Right on his bad leg. He looked around and wondered. Who were they looking for anyway?  
Kate's eyes went wide as she barged into one of the rooms. Sherlock was there, sat on a chair that he was clearly tied to. Not that it should have been surprising, she knew what she would find anyway, but it still shocked her. Sherlock shook his head gently, and Kate returned it. He knew John was with Kate, but somewhere else in the house. Kate stepped back out of the room and shouted, "John! Over here!" She could hear John coming, and went to Sherlock to untie him. "Oh my God," John said as he saw Sherlock when he came in. "Thank you," Sherlock said, ignoring John for the moment as Kate successfully untied him and stood up. "Hello John," Sherlock greeted. John's amazement at the impossibility of Sherlock being alive was overtaken by anger, and he punched Sherlock. "OK, that was understandable," Sherlock reasoned as he straightened himself up after the blow. Kate had gone to John to try and calm him down, but it wasn't really working.  
"Understandable?! You've been alive all these months whilst I have been drowned in sorrow because I thought you were dead!" John shouted.  
"Oh please, spare me the bloody guilt!" Sherlock retorted, "I did it to protect you!"  
John laughed in disbelief, "To protect me? Well, for your information, that didn't really work because someone knows you're alive and they almost killed Kate!"  
"Oh, and I'm fine, thank you," Sherlock said with a smile, his sentence dripping with sarcasm.  
"Shut up, Sherlock!" John snapped.  
"Why should I? After all, I was trying to protect you."  
"And that failed miserably!"  
"Boys!" Kate interrupted, "For goodness sake, calm down! Stop your childish squabbling and let's just settle down, alright?!" That made the two men shut up, and Kate intensely looked between the pair., making them both a little uncomfortable. They both knew an outburst like that from Kate probably only happened when necessary, and they both created that situation. "Come on," she said softly, breaking the tension.


	18. Fighting and Quietness

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter for you! Sorry it took a bit longer than I had hoped. I've sprained my wrist and had a bit of writer's block. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate fidgeted nervously as John angrily stabbed at his piece of cake. She kept glancing at John, then to Sherlock, then back at her hot chocolate. The tension was unbearable between the two, and Kate was stuck right in the middle of it. "How did you survive?" John suddenly asked as he continued stabbing the cake. "Does it matter?" Sherlock questioned dismissively.  
"I was there when you fell. I felt your pulse – you seemed dead," John explained. The image of the dead Sherlock came into his mind again, and a silent tear ran down his face that he quickly wiped off.  
"I have a few tricks up my sleeve, John, don't think I'm not clever."  
"Oh, you've always been clever, I've always thought of you as clever. I just didn't know you were an even bigger arsehole than I thought."  
"I did it to protect you and God knows who else!"  
The two started arguing again, and Kate simply sunk in her seat next to John, not comfortable with shouting again. Sherlock noticed, and didn't retort at John's argument, looking at Kate so John could understand. It was like two parents not fighting because their child was there and so clearly uncomfortable about it.  
"So where are you staying?" John asked.  
"Here and there. Everywhere. Does it matter?" Sherlock replied dismissively.  
"It does a little. You're still my friend, and you always will be, even if you pull off things like that. I asked for one more miracle and I got it."  
"Well, since you know, maybe I should tell Lestrade. And I can't wait to see Donovan's and Anderson's stupid faces once they find out I'm still alive."  
"And you think he'll let you help out again?"  
"Of course! Maybe. Not 100% on the matter."  
"And what about Mrs Hudson?"  
"I'll tell her too and before you say it, yes, I'll be gentle. Maybe she'll even let us move back in our flat."  
"If that'll be the case then we can probably ask her if Kate can stay in 221C."  
Kate looked at John in surprise. "What? What would you do that for?" She asked.  
"Yeah, why is she important?" Sherlock added.  
"Mrs Hudson has never been able to rent out that flat anyway, I don't see how it would be a problem if Kate can stay there then she has a roof over her head. I want you to be safe, Kate. That doesn't mean sleeping rough or continuously sleeping on my sofa."  
"What? You barely know her and she's already moved in!"  
"I haven't moved in," Kate protested. She didn't know if Sherlock was just pretending or was genuinely surprised at the revelation.  
"She hasn't, but she looked after me when I got a blow to the head – which was because of you by the way – so I let her stay on the sofa for a night. Then someone broke in again, she helped with that, then she was drugged _fatally _and I couldn't just let her go on the streets in that state," John explained calmly, "By that point, I had already properly moved in with you."  
"Fair enough," Sherlock reasoned. He rather liked Kate. She was a bit clever, nice and she tended to seem happy. It sounded like she could handle what is life was so why the hell not? "I think she'll still be expected to pay, even if it's just a little bit. How will she manage that? She has no job."  
"Well, if I join you as your assistant again then maybe Kate could take up my job at the morgue. She gets along with Molly and she's got good knowledge of how a body works."  
"Plus I did Biology at A Level," Kate added quietly.  
"See? Otherwise I'll help her find one. Shall we go soon?"  
"Sounds reasonable," Sherlock agreed.  
"I'll just go to the toilet," Kate said, getting up. She quickly went to the small toilet by the counter of the café.  
"Why do you fell like she's your responsibility?" Sherlock enquired.  
John frowned and thought for a moment, "I don't know. I was lonely and she was nice, and maybe vice versa too. Come on, I want to see everyone's reaction at the station." He grinned, which Sherlock returned. Neither of them could deny that they had missed each other.


	19. Sketching for Cases

_**Hello! Here's the new chapter. I'll hopefully get the next one updated soon since I have an inset day tomorrow so I can work on my stories for a bit. I'm not sure if I've got this chapter right, so if you have any suggestions on making it better then please don't be afraid to say so. I mainly wrote this one in my jotter at school because I was bored haha. Sometimes I love sitting at the back of the class. Enjoy!**_

Lestrade sighed as he slapped down another piece of paperwork. They were getting nowhere with any of the cases. He needed a miracle to get those solved. Namely, a miracle with the name of Sherlock Holmes. There was a knock on his office door, and he smiled as John came in, followed by Kate. "What brings you here?" He asked, "Got anywhere with your little case?" "Yeah, we have actually," John replied as Sherlock came in. "Hello Lestrade," he greeted casually, looking round then smiling at him. Lestrade gaped as Sherlock Holmes looked around, hummed a little and then stood next to John. Was he dreaming? "You alright there, detective inspector?" Kate asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and a small smile on her face. John had the same look in his eyes as Kate did, whilst Sherlock just looked bored. "Am I seeing things or something?" Lestrade asked, heavily doubting what was in front of him. "No, he's real," John replied with a smile. Neither Kate or John could deny that his reaction was entertaining, but it wasn't as obvious that Sherlock was quite enjoying the detective inspector's reaction. "No, you're messing me about," Lestrade protested, "Sherlock Holmes is dead; you've just got a lookalike or something." John looked at Sherlock, who replied to the expectant look in John's eyes with a grin and then looked at Lestrade. "You've finally gotten over your wife leaving you. Must've been rather hard for you but didn't take you too long to get over it as there are faint lip marks on your cheeks," Sherlock deduced, talking quickly and with ease, "You also haven't been sleeping well. Perhaps due to insomnia or you have a rather active life in the bedroom with your new girlfriend. Would you like me to continue?" Lestrade looked uncertainly at John who nodded slightly. "My God," Lestrade gasped, "But how? How the hell is it possible that you're alive?"  
"It just is, let's leave it at that," Sherlock replied dismissively, "Now, I've identified a man who has an important role in a, what I believe, is a nationwide crime ring. I'm sure you're interested in it."  
Lestrade raised an eyebrow, "Really, what have you got?"  
"Kidnapping, burglary, theft and perhaps murder," Sherlock listed, "Kate here also has a - probably fairly - good description of him as he interacted with her. Don't worry, he's not hurt." Kate looked at him, an eyebrow raised, and he smiled in reply as John sniggered. "Your hands," he said quietly to her, then frowned, "Can you draw?"  
Kate thought for a moment. "Um, a little," she replied, "Why?"  
"It's better to have the person draw from memory than pick and choose from a photo fit or identity parade or things like that."  
"Oh right, I understand," she agreed, "Those sorts of things interfere with the memory."  
"How do you know that?"  
"Studied Psychology at GCSE. I always found it very interesting."  
"Suppose it must be."  
"It is."  
Lestrade sighed. The conversation was getting off track and he had better things to do. "Can we get back to the job at hand?" He asked irritably.  
"Sorry," Kate said politely, then glanced at John, smiling, and turned back to the detective inspector, "Have you got a pencil and some paper?"  
"Yeah, one second," Lestrade replied and opened a drawer to rummage through.  
"Meanwhile, shall John and I have a look at all these apparently unsolvable cases?" Sherlock asked as he picked up a few files from Lestrade's desk, "I've been exceptionally bored recently so I could do with a bit of fun."  
Lestrade looked up at him, "Fun?"  
"Sorry, I meant work."  
"Go ahead, knock yourself out."  
"Right. John, we need to go somewhere else. Can't stand hearing chatter," Sherlock said as he headed for the door again.  
"OK then," John agreed, confused, but followed his old friend out of Lestrade's office after glancing at Kate, who nodded in reassurance.  
Kate sighed as Lestrade finally managed to find a half decent pencil and started sketching.


	20. Just Like Before

_**Hello! Sorry this took a little longer than expected; didn't really know how to start the chapter and had a bit of a rubbish week. Anyway, I have a vague idea on how to do the next chapter so I'll get onto that. In the mean time, enjoy and feel free to suggest anything :)**_

"Why are you being nice to Kate?" John asked as Sherlock read through a case file.  
"Hmm, this one's rather obvious too. Idiots," Sherlock muttered, "It was obviously the brother – no one else could get that close to him..."  
"Sherlock, answer me," John demanded, "You haven't answered the big question so answer me this one."  
"That's going to be your excuse when asking me anything, isn't it?"  
"Yes, now answer my question."  
"Pity," Sherlock replied simply as he slapped down the file on some others and picked up another from the other pile of case files.  
"Pity? What do you mean by that?"  
"She looks at you with eternally grateful eyes, like you've done her a big favour. You obviously have since you've let her stay at your flat and you're helping her look for a job. A girl like that should be independent but she isn't. She used to be because she had to be, most likely because she was sleeping rough which you said. To be so reliant on another human being and be so grateful for it must mean she had a dysfunctional family and she's been having to cope on her own for quite a while. In other words – pity."  
"Wow. Sherlock Holmes feels pity. That's something. Hiding must've done you good."  
"Oh God no, next thing you'll know I'm capable of a romantic relationship."  
John giggled, which in turn made Sherlock chuckle. "Now that I'd like to see," John said mid-giggle. He had almost forgotten that his friend shouldn't really be alive and that his fake death caused him grief for months. They were just having a conversation now, and laughing, It was just like before, like what John had longed for for what seemed like ages.  
Then, Sally Donovan came in. "Oh, hi John," she greeted casually, dismissing the sight of Sherlock for a moment. She suddenly stopped and looked at him again. "You are bloody kidding me," she said as she stared at Sherlock, who simply cheerfully smiled back, "The Freak's come back to haunt us."  
"Hello Sergeant Donovan," Sherlock greeted.  
"You can't even die for real, can you?"  
"Seems not."  
"Right, well what are you doing here? Why would you show your face around here? Everyone knows you're a fraud."  
"Obviously, since I've just solved half the cases marked 'unsolvable' with the help of John," he retorted sarcastically.  
"Really now? You haven't just made them up?"  
"I assure you I haven't. Ask Lestrade if you want to-"  
"-Right, well I'll do just that. I need to see him anyway."  
"-But he's rather busy," Sherlock added as Donovan walked off. He sighed irritably, "She hasn't changed has she?"  
"No, she's just even more smug," John replied, making both of them laugh a little again.

…

Sally Donovan quickly knocked on Lestrade's door and barged in before Lestrade could say anything. "Sir, there's been another one," she announced, then noticed Kate, "Oh. Hello."  
"What's happened?" Lestrade asked seriously, but was exasperated all the same. Sometimes he was tired of running about all day.  
"There's been an attack. Five people killed, seven injured – two severely. Got some good descriptions but I think it's linked with some of the other cases because they all gave a similar description of the man who did it to some other attacks and kidnappings."  
Lestrade looked at Kate, who had been vaguely listening but had mainly been concentrating on her drawing. She had one more bit to shade in, but that was it, though it didn't really matter. "Did they describe him a bit like that?" He asked, showing Donovan Kate's drawing.  
"Well, I think so. Can't be sure but I can go and compare it."  
"Well, get on with it then!"  
"Will do."  
With that, Donovan hurried out. Lestrade looked at Kate, who followed him out of his office. Lestrade burst into the room Sherlock & John were working in. Well, more like laughing, but both turned to face the detective inspector and their friend who had come in in a rush. "There's been another one," Lestrade stated seriously.  
Sherlock looked at John, an excited sparkle in his eyes, then turned back to Lestrade. "Well then, we should get going."


	21. Night Will Fall

_**I'm really sorry it's been a while and that this chapter isn't much, but it's all leading up to something, I promise. I've also been ill for a few days and school work and stuff, but since it's nearly half term and I've already started writing for other chapters for this story, I'll hopefully update a bit more. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate unlocked the door to John's flat. He had said it would've been better if she didn't go along with them, that it tended to get hectic. She could see what he was talking about considering the recent few days. She couldn't help wondering how he got used to it, but she could see he enjoyed it. Just a little, anyway. She was grateful for everything he was doing for her, even though she could probably manage by herself. Maybe not. She took of her coat and placed it on the sofa, but had to rummage through her pockets as she heard her text message alert from her phone. _Look at media – SH_. Kate frowned at the message for a moment, then realised what he meant. She searched for the TV remote and switched it onto the 24 hour news channel once she'd been successful. _"Now, this is just in,"_ the newsreader suddenly reported, _"You may remember a few months ago that Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective for the police, committed suicide. Well, maybe not, since Detective Inspector Lestrade has just arrived at the hospital where the victims of this morning's attack, along with Dr John Watson and what certainly seems like the consulting detective who should really be dead. Eleanor Davis is there at the hospital..." _Kate grinned to herself as the reporter talked about the earlier attack and then the presence of Sherlock Holmes, who had now already gone inside with John and Lestrade. So that was why John had told her to go back. They were probably used to it, but probably knew she wasn't. She didn't really like the idea of cameras flashing in her face. She never did. It looked like John would be a while, so she settled in in the corner of the sofa and changed the channel to something more interesting. She still felt a little uncomfortable doing what she wanted in John's flat, but she didn't really do much. All she really did was get food and sit on the sofa, excluding using the bathroom for the toilet or a shower. At least then she thought she wouldn't interfere, and John didn't seem to mind. He had told her quite a bit about Sherlock's habits, which sounded strange but interesting all the same, and they made her laugh. It sounded like John had to put up with quite a lot, but it also seemed like he liked it, in a strange sort of way. Oh well, that was him. Hours passed far too quickly and Kate fell asleep before John came back. Little did either know about how hectic the next day would be...


	22. Surprises in the Morning

_**Hello! Here's the new chapter! Bit of drabble again but the next will be a bit more interesting. Since I've already started it, it'll be uploaded soon. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate woke up to the insistent ringing of a phone. She must've been asleep for a long while, since it was already morning, but that used to be normal for her. Goodness knew what normal was going to become for her. "Oh, God," John groaned as he hastily walked into the living room, dressed in a pair of striped pyjamas, "Who calls at this hour? It's 8 o'clock for goodness sake!" He picked up the phone, declined the call and set it back in its receiver. "Everything alright?" Kate asked as John sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Well, it seems that the media have found out Sherlock is alive," he replied, irritated, "So there's no doubt they'll be pestering me, and that's not fun."  
"It doesn't sound like it," Kate agreed, "How long were you at the hospital?"  
"I have no idea, but what I do know is that I came back at 11."  
"Ooft, you must be tired."  
"Hmm, I used to be used to it, running about with Sherlock the whole time, but now...ooh, I don't know..."  
His mumbling was interrupted my the phone ringing again, making him sigh. Kate pointed to it, "That's going to keep ringing all day, isn't it?"  
"Yeah, I think it is," he replied as he looked at the caller ID then declined the call, "I don't even know how they got the phone number."  
"The press seem like vultures."  
"That they are. If they know my phone number, then God knows what else they know..."  
"Have you had to deal with something like this before?"  
"Something similar, but I don't think that will help."  
"Ooh..."  
"Yeah. Anyway, we need to sort this case out. Would you like to come?"  
"Anything to beat being bored! Could never stand doing nothing, always had to read or draw."  
"Sounds good!" John laughed, "Won't be long."  
Kate smiled at him as he went to get changed. For some reason, she did like how chaotic the last few days had been. Well, most of them. Was it days? It felt like days. It may have been a week now. May have been longer that. Oh well, she hadn't really kept track of time and she didn't mind that. She suddenly spotted something next to her bag and guitar. It was a neat little pile of her spare clothes...Strange, she had left them in her bag, she was sure of it. She picked them up and inspected them. Her leggings and top were clean, but she certainly hadn't done that. She couldn't really judge her tunic though; it had always looked like that. She hadn't even thought about using John's washing machine – she was too busy with other things. She looked at them again, almost in disbelief at the quality of them. "These are washed," she stated as John reappeared, now ready to go outside.  
"Yeah," John agreed, "Sorry about going through your stuff but I kind of owed you."  
"You don't owe me anything, John. If anything, I'm in your debt for you letting me sleep on your sofa."  
John smiled at her, "I'm just glad I have someone to talk to. I don't want to go to my therapist all the time. We should really go in case there's a whole herd of media waiting at the front."  
Kate chuckled and headed to John's bathroom, "I promise I won't be long. It's been a while since washed clothes."  
John chuckled as she closed and locked the bathroom door. He was glad he had found a friend who was pretty much the opposite of Sherlock Holmes. Maybe she could keep him sane when Sherlock drove him mad...


	23. Freshness in the Day

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter, and I did say it would be updated soon haha! I've also got the next chapter almost finished with a few alterations to do so that'll be posted soon as well. Anyway, enjoy!**_

John and Kate finally arrived at Scotland Yard after having to swerve through the media. Everyone was interested in Sherlock Holmes still being alive, after the world was entirely sure that the 'fake genius' had committed suicide. Lestrade and the consulting detective were already waiting for them. Kate was now wearing her tunic, top and leggings. It felt good having clean clothes for a change, though it felt odd. IT felt like the last few months that she had been living on the streets were slowly fading away, as it seemed that every day Kate made her way back into what could be normal life "John, come on," Sherlock said as soon as his former flatmate and Kate came up to them, "Time's ticking and he might be anywhere by now." John looked at him, confused, "What?"  
"Oh, for God's sake, John, isn't it obvious?"  
"No, not really. Where are we going?"  
"Going to catch the ring leader, now we should really go before those...vultures realise we're doing something?"  
"What about Kate?"  
"She'll hold us up even more, plus Lestrade can use her help. _Come on_!"  
John looked at Kate. "I don't mind," Kate assured.  
John smiled and followed the impatient Sherlock, and Lestrade gestured for Kate to follow him.

...

"What's happened?" Kate asked, confused, as she followed Lestrade into his office. Sherlock had spoken to John with such urgency that it could only worry her.  
"A little girl's been found," Lestrade explained Sherlock managed to find the house. There wasn't anyone alive except he found the kid hidden in a cupboard. He also found two people who were shot, probably just before he arrived. We think they're the girl's parents."  
"Oh my goodness, is she alright?"  
"She's fine, she was brought to the hospital just to be checked out but there aren't any major issues so they're bringing her in so that we can ask her some questions."  
"Are you sure it isn't a bit soon? The poor kid must be traumatised."  
"She seems fine, if she isn't then I'll stop asking her questions."  
Lestrade handed her a case file with newly printed photographs of the scene.  
"Have a look if you like, after all, this might be the first of many."  
Kate looked up from flicking through the file, "Sorry what?"  
"John asked me yesterday if there could be a job for you here. You seem quite good at it, you're clever, so why not?"  
Kate smiled at the detective, "Thank you. That-that would be brilliant, thank you."


	24. Fear and Kindness

_**Here's the next chapter! It's a bit long but I couldn't think of how to split it in two but oh well. Anyway, I'll get working on the next chapter. Enjoy!**_

About an hour later, Kate watched Lestrade trying – and failing – to interview the girl. He hadn't even managed to find out her name. She wasn't answering at all. All she was doing was...humming, singing. She refused to look at Lestrade, but her eyes wandered round the room. Lestrade sighed as he failed to get her to answer and decided to give up. He walked out, and sighed again, "I've got nothing. She won't even look at me." "Poor girl," Kate said as she continued to watch the little girl, "She must be terrified."  
"What makes you think that?" Lestrade frowned.  
"Just look at her. Who wouldn't be scared? You've been taken away from your home, hidden away in a cupboard, your parents are probably dead and when you're found you're put in a quite dark room with a man you don't know. How would you feel?"  
"You've got a point there, but we won't get anywhere if she's like that. It would be best to probably just let her get used to her surroundings or something-"  
"Let me try and ask her."  
Lestrade frowned at her, "What?"  
"Just let me give it a go. I'll need the practice anyway. She's scared of you, maybe it won't be the same with me."  
"Why would she be scared of _me_? I won't hurt her."  
"Yeah but she doesn't know that. We know that some of the people involved in this crime ring were rich, right? Well, maybe that's why she's scared of you. It could be the way you dress, the look in your eyes, maybe the way you hold yourself. It could be anything but maybe that little girl won't see me as that, so just let me try."  
"Alright, go ahead."  
"Thank you."

Lestrade opened the door for her. Kate came up to the little girl, who just looked at her in fear as Kate crouched down to her. "Hello," Kate greeted softly, "My name's Kate. What's your name?" The little girl looked at her for a few seconds before quietly replying, "Jenny." Kate smiled, "You've got a lovely name, Jenny."  
"Thank you." Jenny fidgeted with her hands, which Kate could see were hurt.  
"Can I have a look at your hands?"  
Jenny tucked her little hands under her top in fear.  
"It's alright. You can have a look at mine, look."  
Kate held up both her hands and turned them round so Jenny could see the back of her hands too.  
"Even I have cuts on my hands, even though I don't really know how I got them. Have you got cuts on your hands, Jenny?"  
Jenny nodded in reply.  
"Can I have a look at them? I promise you I won't hurt you."  
Jenny slowly showed Kate her small hands that had burns marks, cuts and scars on them. Kate sighed in sympathy as she looked at them.

"Hello Lestrade," John greeted as him and Sherlock came in, "How is it?"  
"I've not got anything out of her I'm afraid," Lestrade replied as Sherlock looked around, "Lost the lead?"  
"Obviously. John, where's your friend?" Sherlock asked, "Kate, wasn't it?"  
"She's in there, talking to the little girl."  
"What?! Why?!"  
"She's doing better than me at the moment, look."  
The three men looked into the other room through the blinds. Kate was still looking at the little girl's hands.  
"I couldn't even get that little girl to look at me. It might be easy but she's good at it. You've chosen your friends well."

"Do you know how you got those cuts, Jenny?" Kate asked gently, "Did someone hurt you?"  
Jenny nodded.  
"Don't worry," she assured, then looked at the three men outside and turned back to Jenny, "Can you see my friends over there?"  
Jenny looked out to see John, Sherlock and Lestrade and instinctively grabbed Kate's hand.  
"It's alright. They're my friends. They won't hurt you, I promise. If they do they'll get a kick up the backside from me, don't you worry. They're going to find who did this and going to set it right, OK?"  
Jenny smiled and nodded.  
"But we won't be able to do it without your help, Jenny. Do you think you could be able to help us?"  
"Yeah," Jenny answered.  
Kate smiled, "Thank you. I'm just going to talk to my friends for a moment. I'll only be over there and then I'll come back, OK?"  
Jenny nodded again, and watched as Kate went out of the door.

"What have you found?" Lestrade asked as soon as Kate came out.  
"Her name's Jenny, she's definitely been hurt and she's willing to help us," Kate replied.  
"That's good work. Thanks for doing that."  
"No problem. Would I be able to take her somewhere? It's nowhere dangerous, just a little café or something."  
Lestrade frowned, "Why would you do that?"  
"The poor girl's terrified. She was in that cupboard for goodness knows how long and that's not how a kid should live, for no matter how long. She probably  
doesn't trust anybody any more. Not since what she's been through. Let me build her trust in me and the case could be done quicker."  
"You sound really professional," John commented.  
"Thank you! I wasn't trying to but thanks. Please let me take her out. She's not a suspect, she's a victim and she's only little."  
"Fine, go ahead."  
"Thank you."


	25. Something Old and New

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. It's a bit of drabble chapter. I have some ideas for the next chapter but it might not be updated soon because I have Maths exams soon. Anyway, enjoy and if you have any suggestions then please let me know :)**_

Kate looked at the door of 221B. "So you used to live here?" She asked John as they walked up to it.  
"Yeah," John replied simply.  
"Well, it certainly looks nice."  
"And then I'd come into the mess that was 221B. Nice work with the little kid by the way."  
"Thank you! I knew it wouldn't take much to get her to help and it didn't."  
"Where'd she go again?"  
"They found her some foster parents unbelievably quickly. I met them; they seem nice."  
"Good. Right, ready?"  
"Yeah, are you?"  
"God, no."  
Kate chuckled, "Are you going to tell her about Sherlock?"  
"I'll try if she doesn't know but knowing her, she will. Let's try shall we?"  
Kate nodded, and John knocked on the door. Only a few seconds later, Mrs Hudson opened it. She looked unchanged – the same as ever. "Oh, hello John!" She  
greeted cheerfully, "I was going to call you or something but I suppose there's no need for that. Who's your friend?"  
"This is Kate," John introduced, "Kate, this is Mrs Hudson."  
"Nice to meet you," Kate said with a polite smile.  
"You too, dear," Mrs Hudson replied, then looked at John, "There were all kinds of stories going round that Sherlock's still alive, it's not true is it?"  
"In fact, it is," John answered.  
"Oh, well that's interesting, isn't it? Where is he then?"  
"I don't know he just tends to...show up. He'll probably be pissing off Anderson right now."  
Kate stifled her laughter, but couldn't help grinning.  
"Well, you should come in. No good just standing outside," Mrs Hudson said, and ushered them inside, "You know, I've been struggling so much with renting out these bloody flats. I think it's because Sherlock's experiments left a lingering smell which has put people off. And then there's the damp in 221C. I've never rented that out for long."  
"Well, I was wondering if we could rent out 221B again, at the rate we had before, if you don't mind."  
"Oh, of course! What, you and Sherlock?"  
"Yes, me and Sherlock. And maybe you could finally get rid of the burden of 221C."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well, Kate needs a roof over her head."  
Mrs Hudson looked at John's friend, and Kate smiled at her in return  
"Oh, that would be brilliant. Two flats in one go," Mrs Hudson laughed, "We'll have to warn Sherlock that all his things are gone though."  
"Oh I'm sure he's got a stash of equipment hidden away somewhere," John joked.


	26. A Lot of Change

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a while, but I wasn't sure on what to write. This chapter and the next few will be a bit of a drabble until I build up to another event I suppose. The next chapter or two might take a while t be posted because I have a couple of exams that I need to revise for. Anyway, enjoy!**_

"This is so weird," Kate said, grinning as she stood in 221C with John, "Exciting, but weird."  
"You'll get used to it," John assured, "Things that are a lot stranger have happened recently."  
"I suppose so," Kate laughed, "It's a bit dark though."  
"You could always get it repainted or new wallpaper. As long as you don't vandalise the wall, I don't think Mrs Hudson minds."  
She laughed again, "Yeah...I didn't really think this would happen so quickly!"  
"Well, be glad it has. When does your training start again?"  
"Monday, but Sherlock's managed to find me a job which looks rather posh whilst I'm training."  
"Sounds interesting."  
"Yeah...It pays quite well whilst it' just a sort of weekend job. Do you know why he's being so nice to me?"  
"I have no idea whatsoever; he's usually a complete arsehole to people. Except to Mrs Hudson, he's rather fond of her."  
Kate chuckled, making John smile, "It's so weird, I feel all...I dunno. Grown up seems too childish to use, but I feel weirdly grown up."  
"Oh, the world's harsh sometimes. Let's go check up on Sherlock. I'm afraid he might have exploded by now."  
"It's a disaster, John!" Sherlock shouted as John and Kate came in.  
"Wow, this looks...a lot better than I last saw it. It used to be a mess," John said as he looked around. The flat seemed completely redecorated, probably Mrs Hudson's attempt to reel in new flat inhabitants.  
"THAT was organisation!" Sherlock snapped, "Now everything's moved and disorganised. I'm going to have to go to a lot of places."  
"Right then, but you're not going to get another skull are you?"  
"Why not?"  
"Never mind," John sighed.  
"It's all changed. I don't like that. At all. It's horrible..." Sherlock muttered as he opened cupboards and other storage spaces in the flat to have a look.  
"Anyway, whilst you fuss about _your _flat, I think I'm going to try and find some stuff for mine," Kate said, wrapping her scarf round her neck.  
"John, go with her."  
"What? Why does he need to come with me?!"  
"God knows there's all sorts going round here and-"  
"I know, but I can look after myself!"  
"And John knows all those shops. Plus, we'll need new wallpaper. This is too bright."  
"Only you would call wallpaper like this too bright," John pointed out, indicating to the white wall which had light swirly patterns on it.  
"Oh, whatever, just go," Sherlock demanded dismissively.  
John and Kate looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't mind," Kate said, "Not all too much."  
"Me neither. Let's go," John replied.


	27. Old in a Wallpaper Shop

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter, sorry it's taken a while. Warning: I wrote some of this in the early hours of a Monday morning; round that time I tend to get a little poetic :p I've found this chapter a little wibbly, so if you can think of any improvements then please let me know :) Anyway, enjoy!**_

"What are you doing?" Kate asked with a small smile as John took a photo of a roll of wallpaper.  
"Sherlock's quite picky about stuff," John explained as he tapped on his phone, "I want to make sure I don't get my head snapped off by him by getting the wrong wallpaper."  
Kate laughed, "Fair enough! To be honest, Sherlock seems like a choosy person."  
"Rather doesn't come into it. He's a bloody choosy person and I think he always will be."  
Kate laughed again, "Well, it should make living in 221C more interesting!"  
"That it certainly will be," John smiled, then turned his attention to his phone. Sherlock had replied. "No, not dark enough," he sighed as he shoved the phone back into his pocket, "I swear, he won't be satisfied until it's a murky green wallpaper with a black pattern and a yellow smiley face on it."  
"I won't even ask! Won't be long."  
"OK, I best get onto finding darker wallpaper. The joy of living with a consulting detective."  
Kate laughed again and walked off.

"Hey there, Sam!" Kate said as she approached the young man behind the counter, "It's good to see you!"  
The man looked up and grinned. His skin was as dark as milk chocolate, and his teeth were like milk on it. His dark hair was short and curly and his eyes were a deep brown, containing the sparkle of a star. "As it is seeing you!" He replied, then looked a bit awkward, "Sorry, I've forgotten..."  
Kate grinned, "Kate, remember?"  
"That's it, I keep forgetting, sorry."  
"Doesn't matter. You seem better off since the last time I saw you though!"  
"Yeah, I got this recently. It pays quite well. How about you?"  
"Sorting things out now. My friends have helped me; managed to get me a job."  
"I told you your kindness would pay off."  
"I'm not _that _good!"  
"I know it when I see it."  
Kate couldn't think of a reply, so just smiled. "I'll leave you to it."  
"Alright, see you, but we need to talk more."  
"We do."  
"Have you still got your old phone?"  
"Yes."  
"We can arrange something then."  
Kate grinned again, "Alright, see you later."

"Have you found the right darkness of wallpaper?" Kate asked as she joined John again.  
"Almost, I think," John replied.  
"Never knew such a man would be so horribly picky. Is it the same for his birthday?"  
"I don't even know when his birthday is. That or I've forgotten it, why?"  
Kate chuckled, "I was just teasing you, sorry. I like this one." She inspected the large roll of wallpaper that had a pattern of large red roses and stems.  
John grinned, "I can see why."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Doesn't really matter. Come on."


	28. Wallpaper and Roses

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took a while – I was ill last week and this week my mind has kind of exploded with the read through picture etc. so I wasn't able to write much. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!**_

Kate hummed along to the music as she put up the wallpaper. She had been able to get new clothes, and she'd found and bought furniture. It all seemed a little weird, but she supposed she would get used to it soon. John had decided to leave Sherlock on his own in their flat to go to the shops. As long as he didn't bother her, it was fine. That's when he _did _bother her. A gunshot sounded from upstairs. It shocked Kate so much, she had to push her arm against the ceiling to keep her balance. "What the hell?" She muttered as she got down from the little steel ladder and ran upstairs to find Sherlock intently staring out the window, a gun in his hand, "What on earth, Sherlock?" "Pest control," Sherlock grumbled and turned around, "Sorry." "Right, um, thank you," Kate replied, "What do you mean, pest control? Someone bothering you?"  
"Yes," Sherlock grumbled again. There was a knock on the door downstairs, and Sherlock sped off in the direction of it.  
"Sherlock!" Kate called as she followed him, but he had vanished in the crowds as she got to the door. "Odd man," she muttered as she went back in, "I don't know if I'll ever get used to that..."

"Kate, have you seen Sherlock?" John asked as he came into Kate's bedroom. Kate's ladder wobbled and it took her a while to gain her balance. "Sorry, lacking balance today," she said as she got down, "Well, he rushed out about, ooh, half an hour ago. That was after he fired a bullet out of one of your windows."  
"Ah, I was going to ask about that afterwards. Running out randomly is very Sherlock."  
"Oh so he does it normally?"  
"Yeah, he's like a cat or a pigeon. Always comes back. In some really strange states sometimes..."  
"I was worried! What kind of states? If you don't mind me being nosy?"  
"Drugged, with a harpoon and blood all over it. All sorts really. Don't worry, you'll get used to it!"  
"I think I'll have to! At least life will be interesting."  
John chuckled, "That's a positive. I've got your ingredients."  
"Thank you!"  
"You don't have to, by the way."  
"I want to. You're being nice to me, it'll ease my guilt if I return the favour."  
"Well, thank you. Don't expect a good response from Sherlock though! You're lucky if he even takes a bite!"  
Kate laughed. That was going to be fun.


	29. Gashes and Dinner

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter! Sorry it's taken a while and that the chapter's a bit wibbly, but I had a Textiles exam and I've been ill so my mind's a bit dodgy. If you have any corrections or suggestions then please tell me :) Anyway, enjoy!**_

Sherlock came into the flat, only one arm in the sleeves as half of his coat was simply covering him. John was sat on his chair, his eyes fixed on the TV, and Sherlock assumed Kate was in her flat, perhaps still decorating, though he could hear something fizzling a little in the kitchen..."John, I need your help," Sherlock stated as he carefully took off his coat, revealing a nasty gash in his arm. "With what?" John asked absent-mindedly as he continued watching, "Where did you go anyway?" Sherlock sighed, and frowned as Kate appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. "You must've run far!" She joked, then spotted the cut on his arm, "What happened?" John frowned at Kate's reaction and looked at Sherlock, his cut more than obvious, "Oh my God, Sherlock!" "This, _this _is what I need help with," Sherlock prompted.  
"Right, sorry," John said as he stood up and got out the first aid kit, "Why didn't you go to the hospital?"  
"It's obvious, isn't it?"  
"Not particularly, no."  
"People will want to know how he survived," Kate answered for Sherlock, "and I don't think Sherlock is a man who likes being heckled."  
"No, I don't; the people who tend to heckle others for stories are vultures and I don't want to feed them. Thank you, by the way," Sherlock said as John tended to his friend's wound.  
Kate smiled, "I'll be done in a bit."  
"What are you doing in there anyway?" Sherlock asked curiously.  
"Dinner!"  
Sherlock frowned and looked at John.  
"You'll like it; she's a good cook," John replied as he finished helping Sherlock with the gash on his arm.

Kate set down the maple syrup, sugar and cutlery, before she went back in and returned with three plates which contained two pancakes each. Sherlock eyed the table suspiciously as Kate went back in to come back with one of the kitchen chairs. "It looks brilliant!" John exclaimed as he poured a bit of the maple syrup onto one of the plates. "Thank you," Kate replied as she sat down and got her plate. "What is this?" Sherlock asked. He knew what it was, but he just wanted to see.  
"It's dinner," Kate answered as she sprinkled on some sugar and poured some syrup on her pancakes.  
"Yes but what is it?"  
"Pancakes. Milk, flour, eggs and a bit of salt."  
"Have you not had pancakes before, Sherlock?" John asked in between mouthfuls.  
"If I did, why would I need to remember it?" Sherlock retorted calmly, "Plus, what is its nutritional value?"  
"If the reason you dislike the thought of eating it is because it isn't particularly healthy then have some fruit on it."  
Sherlock gave Kate another glare.  
"Just try it," she encouraged, "I made it before and it's not killed me or John."  
Sherlock reluctantly took the remaining plate and cutlery before cutting some of it and putting it in his mouth. "It's surprisingly good," he said after swallowing the bite.  
Kate grinned at John, "I told you!"  
John chuckled as he continued eating. It was going to be rather interesting if Kate were able to make Sherlock eat more often...


	30. Speedy's and Taxis

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter, sorry if it's a bit flimsy :p I'm trying to incorporate Same (Kate's friend) a little more into it to work my way to another plot. If you've got any ideas, please let me know. Anyway, enjoy!**_

John and Sherlock came inside. They had just finished solving another case, and it was one of them that caused a few giggles. "Oh my God," John gasped happily, "I've missed these insane times." Sherlock laughed at John's statement, then frowned as Kate came up. She looked somehow different. Her hair was in a plait that rested on her shoulder, and she wore a top with flowers on it, as well as some jeans and flats. "You're going somewhere, where?" Sherlock asked suspiciously.  
Kate laughed, "Don't worry, I'm only next door in Speedy's. I'm meeting an old friend. No need to get all protective."  
John grinned at Sherlock as Kate put on a coat.  
"Just be careful, it might not be safe," Sherlock warned quietly.  
Kate gave them both a smile as she headed out.  
"You are unbelievable," John said to Sherlock with a smile as the door shut behind Kate.  
"What?" Sherlock asked with a frown.  
"You are such an arse to me and then you get all protective over the women you've made a platonic bond with!"  
"What? No, I don't!" Sherlock argued.  
"That there was proof. Not to mention the Mrs Hudson incident."  
"That was nothing!"  
"You almost killed the man because he touched her!"  
Sherlock gave his friend a deadly glare before taking out his mobile phone. A text from Lestrade. "We're needed at Scotland Yard," he said as he headed out. John sighed and followed him. Just his luck to finish one and then get another. It was still enjoyable, though.

Kate sat down on the chair opposite to Sam and smiled. "Nice seeing you again," she said as a greeting. "Nice to see you too," Sam replied, "You look well."  
"Thanks," Kate replied, "Nice work with the meet up by the way."  
Sam chuckled, "I forget quite quickly. You're lucky I didn't completely forget."  
"You're lucky I was off. I'm starting work tomorrow; done all my training."  
"What are you going into?"  
"Police force. I doubt I'll be doing much to start off with but I'll still be getting paid. It's better than being homeless."  
"Yeah. You live near Sherlock Holmes, don't you? You're friends with him, aren't you?"  
Kate frowned. She didn't exactly like the tone of Sam's voice – it was a little too curious to just be a passing question. "Yeah, we have the same landlady, why?"  
"I was just wondering."  
Sam looked out of the window, just as Sherlock and John tried to get a taxi. Sherlock looked in their direction, and frowned at Sam before John pulled him into the taxi he managed to get.  
"Are they going out or something?" Sam asked in wonderment.  
Kate grinned, "They might as well be, yeah. They bicker like an old married couple."


	31. Text as an Alarm

Kate sighed as she came back in her flat. She had never had a conversation so strange. Something was odd about Sam. He'd been so insistent, and that wasn't normal for him. He had always been so kind. Oh well, she'd know what was up with him soon. Hopefully. She slipped off her shoes and headed to her bedroom. She had finished decorating and placing all the furniture exactly where she wanted it. She quite liked her little flat, despite the damp, and hoped it would stay that way. She crashed onto her bed , placed her phone on her bedside table and soon fell asleep.

Kate sleepily raised her head at the sound of a text alert and frowned. Who would _that_ be? Suddenly, she noticed her spare blanket was covering her. Strange, she certainly didn't remember that, and she would've just thrown the duvet over herself if she had, not the spare one.

_Sherlock and John came back into 221B. "No, she's back," Sherlock said, following up John's statement about dinner after noticing Kate's coat._

"_I'll go see if she wants dinner, then," John replied and knocked on the door of Kate's flat. He looked at Sherlock after there was no answer. He knew he shouldn't be scared, but considering their dangerous lives, they should always make sure. Sherlock followed John into Kate's flat. They looked around, and Sherlock soon headed for her room.  
_"_John," he called, seeing the asleep Kate.  
_"_What?" John asked as he joined him, and saw Kate, "Oh, God." He came up to her bed and tried to check for a pulse on her wrist. Kate frowned in her sleep and pulled her hand away. "Well, she's definitely alive. No need to worry, I don't think," John assured as he tried to look if his friend had any injuries. None. "I think she's just asleep." He looked around and spotted Kate's spare blanket. He took it, unfolded it and laid it on top of her. "Come on."  
_  
Kate smiled, then reached for her phone and read the text that woke her up. She frowned when she saw it was from Sam. The text was made up of an address, a plea to come there, and then it was signed off by him.

"You're finally awake," Sherlock noted at the top of the stares as Kate got ready to go to the address, "Why are you going somewhere again?"  
"Something's up with my friend," she explained, "Hopefully going to find out what it is. The place is fairly close so it shouldn't take an hour unless I tell you otherwise. If I don't tell you otherwise, you know what to do."  
"And the address is?"  
"The text with it has been forwarded to your phone."  
"Thank you for thinking about it."  
"I've watched enough crime shows. Thank John for me, please."  
"About what?"  
"You know exactly what, and I feel safer knowing that you two are always so cautious. I'm off."  
"Be careful!" Sherlock warned as Kate opened the door.  
"Will do!" She replied just before the door shut behind her.  
Sherlock laughed. Kate was predictable yet she wasn't at the same time. He was happy he had got her to befriend John.


	32. Earwigs and Bullet Wounds

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. It would've been updated earlier if I hadn't been sick yesterday haha. Sorry if it's a bit dodgy, any recommendations to improve it will be appreciated. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate arrived at the little flat. It looked half decent, but she knew better than to judge a book by its cover. She knocked a rhythm on the door and smiled as Sam opened it and let her in. "This is nice," she sad as she looked around, "You've really gone up in the world." It was cosy, and nice. Just what she would expect of him. She had hoped for an explanation of why he was asking her so much earlier, but she didn't exactly expect to turn back to him and have a gun pointed at her. "What are you doing?" She asked quite casually, a misunderstanding smile on her face.  
"You need to tell me about Sherlock Holmes," Sam said, and Kate could see his hands were shaking. Tears were almost forming in his eyes. It was crystal clear to her that someone had to put him up to it.  
"Why? What have they done to you?" Kate asked, trying to get more out of him.  
"You don't understand."  
"I think I understand quite well," Kate countered, "Because I can see it." She tapped her ear, pointing out to her old friend that she could see the earwig.  
"I don't know what you mean."  
"I think you do." She silently asked him if they were watching.  
Sam silently replied no, but they were listening to everything that was said. "I don't know what you're talking about, so just tell me what I need to know."  
Kate nodded in reply, and gestured for him to put the gun down. Sam was her friend, and if anything, she was able to be calm in every matter he could bring before her. He was quite predictable, unlike her friends who lived in the flat above her. Sam slowly lowered the gun, and Kate came up to him then pulled the earwig out before stepping on it.  
"Why were you helping them?" Kate asked, concerned about more than just one of her friends.  
"They knew I knew you," he replied, "And they threatened they would hurt Sally."  
Kate put her hand to her mouth in shock. Sam had been kicked out of his house. He had a sister, Sally, and every now and then, he would contact her, whether it was a phone call, a letter or perhaps a visit just after her school day ended. They were so close, and Kate could see why it hurt Sam.  
"They'll find her, Kate. They'll find her and hurt her and-" Sam was interrupted by a bullet hitting him in the chest. He gasped in both pain and surprise, his eyes pleading for Kate to help.  
Kate helped him get onto the floor as bullets flew overhead. As the swarm of bullets went, she took out the tissues she kept in her pocket and pressed them down on Sam's wound before getting her phone out to call for an ambulance. "It'll be alright, Sam," she assured after an ambulance was promised to be on its way, "I'll make sure Sally's safe. She goes to school at...the Penn one, right?"  
"Yeah," Sam breathed, then chuckled slightly, "You remembered."  
"I try my best," Kate said whilst dialling Lestrade's number. She explained to him about Sally, and luckily, Lestrade was happy to help. She quickly sent a text to Sherlock, saying she was fine, but would probably be home late. She could hear the ambulance coming, so stood up and opened the door for them.


	33. Puzzles

It was pitch black outside when Kate came inside to the much appreciated warmth of the hallway that led to her flat. It was late, and all she currently wanted was to sleep; it had been a long day. Her mobile phone was held in-between her shoulder and her ear as she was on the phone to Lestrade whilst unlocking the door to her flat. "Thank you," she said into the phone as Lestrade had assured her Sam's sister was safe. She hung up, shoved her phone back in her coat and switched on the light. She jumped as she saw Sherlock sitting on her sofa. "You scared me!" She exclaimed, "What were you doing in here?!"  
"I was worried," Sherlock replied, his eyes fixed on the dancing lights he could see from out of the window that the sofa was opposite to.  
"I told you not to. I'm fine. How did you get in here? The door was locked-You nicked the key from Mrs Hudson, didn't you?"  
Sherlock smirked, "You're catching on. Why were you at the hospital?"  
"How-My friend Sam had a bullet lodged in his chest. I went with him to the hospital and he's staying there overnight. He should be fine, but I'm going to get him to stay here."  
"Stay here? Where?"  
"In my flat. Bit too obvious for you to miss."  
"You've only got one bedroom."  
"And a sofa which is surprisingly more comfortable than the street outside."  
"Oh. What else?" He asked as he stood up and got closer to Kate. His pale eyes searched Kate's blue ones, searching for what he wanted, but she hid everything well. That was something he had discovered when he had entered her flat. "There's something else, why aren't you telling me?"  
"Does it matter?"  
"Yes."  
"No, it doesn't. It matters to you right now, but then you'll forget, won't you? That's what you think, but that's not what always happens, is it?"  
Sherlock towered over her, trying to seem as intimidating as possible. "Tell me," he demanded sternly.  
Kate kept her posture, not at all fazed by the man who was trying to get information out of her by trying to make her feel uncomfortable. She had faced a similar situation before, many times. She had almost, almost gotten immune to intimidation, and that was for those who she knew could hurt her. Sherlock Holmes would never do that, so she wasn't at all affected by his intimidating efforts. "I'm not going to, Sherlock," she said, "And that's that."  
"You do realise I will find out what it is."  
"Yes, I do."  
Sherlock smiled, "Good." He went past her and headed to the door, before turning back round to her. "Why _won't _you tell me?"  
Kate sighed. This wasn't going to go away, and she just wanted to sleep. "Because I don't want you hurt. Is that good enough?"  
That clicked in Sherlock's mind. She didn't want to tell him because of what he discovered about her. "You're compensating."  
Kate stammered in surprise. It was a bit of a subject change, and he'd always seemed insistent on keeping the same subject until finding the answers he wanted. "What?"  
"I'm confident you're able to draw from memory," Sherlock started, once again walking up to her, "The first items you got for recreational purposes were a sketchpad and sets of professional pencils. You've drawn basic items but you're also able to draw complex facial features. There are some outlines of John, Mrs Hudson, me and your friend that you've started working on but there is no sign of anyone who is related to you by blood, and none of yourself. In other words, you feel much closer to Mrs Hudson, John and I than your family. You seem strong, quite confident, not very hesitant in speaking your mind. A typical reason to run away from home would be family problems but I didn't imagine the hurt in your eyes could be so great." By now, his eyes were again locked with Kate's, yet this time there was a hint of compassion in his, "In other words, you're compensating. The reason why you won't tell me is because you don't want anyone to get hurt, a certain protectiveness often reserved on that scale for people who are your family."  
Kate managed a smile, whilst she felt like she was on breaking point. "Yeah," she whispered, then headed for her bedroom door, "I'd appreciate it if you could show yourself out and switching the light off."  
Her bedroom door gently shut. Kate was proving to be a puzzle again to Sherlock. He had just solved some of her, and then she did that thing; she remained collected, showing no signs of breaking until she was alone. Even then, she seemed quiet. It was all so strange to him - she seemed to be comfortable around those she was close to, but barely talked about herself, unlike John. Also, if John was angry, he wasn't afraid to show it, especially when telling him he had done something wrong. Sherlock wasn't sure whether there was a difference due to them being of the opposite gender or something else. It was confusing, but he didn't feel like worrying about it at that moment


	34. Introductions and Tea

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter! Yes, this has been updated quite a bit recently, but when I get ideas, I have to write them down to make space for some new ones :p Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :)**_

"Are you sure this is OK?" Sam asked as Kate let him in.  
"Of course," Kate assured happily, "Anything for a friend, and they're investigating what happened at your house."  
"What about your job?"  
"I'm just doing paper work because they're investigating the whole thing and stuff. I don't mind, though."  
"You're amazing."  
Kate chuckled, and they stepped aside as a woman with frizzy brown hair and a long brown dress ran down the stairs. Sam looked at Kate, who just smiled at him.  
"You're lucky, that shows that he's not shooting the wall."  
"What?"  
"You'll find out. Come on, I'll introduce them to you. By the way, yes, Sherlock is as good as they say, but he's also an arse so try not to get offended by him," Kate said as she slowly went up the stairs. Sam grinned and followed her up.

A soap was playing on their TV, and Sherlock was sat watching it, just bored. John was walking round, the kettle was boiling and he was rummaging through a stack of paper. "Hello, Kate," Sherlock said, still watching the TV as Sam and Kate came up. "Having a lack of cases are you?" Kate asked cheerfully as she leaned on the door's frame.  
"Yes," Sherlock replied, "A lot of minor cases with Scotland Yard, all very dull. No sign of Lestrade, so I'm assuming you have something to do with it."  
"I might do."  
At that moment, John found what he needed and grinned before looking at Kate. "Would you like some tea?"  
"I'd love to. Got enough for Sam?"  
John frowned and Kate moved into the room to let Sam come in.  
"Sam, this is John, John this is Sam. That's Sherlock and, Sherlock, you know this is Sam."  
"Nice to meet you," John smiled, "Sorry about him in advance, he still doesn't care about what comes out of his mouth."  
"That's not true," Sherlock protested calmly, shooting a glance at Sam.  
"He's improved, but not fully," John said to Sam and then vanished into the kitchen.  
"So he's your close friend," Sherlock said, directed at Kate.  
"Yeah."  
"Well, it's obvious what it was you weren't telling me now."  
"Oh, I was afraid of that. Then again, it is obvious, isn't it?"  
Sherlock smiled at her, whilst Sam wasn't following. "Sorry, could you explain that?" He asked.  
Sherlock then looked at Kate questioningly. "You go," she said in reply, "It's far more impressive when you do it."  
He grinned again and stood up.  
"What's he doing?" Sam asked, unsurprisingly still confused.  
"He's explaining. Sort of. Just pay attention to every word he says, and try not to get offended."  
Both of them looked at Sherlock, who smiled again and then rolled his deductions of his tongue. "You were homeless, but found yourself in luck – you got a job. You have a tattoo on your arm that says Sally. You look to smart to have a tattoo with your girlfriend's name so it's probably someone who you will have an eternal attachment to. So, it's a family member. It's not your mum or your dad. You got kicked out so you probably haven't got an extended family, then it's your sister. Someone threatened your sister and that made them able to manipulate you. You're still worried about her, though Kate has assured you she's safe. You might be worried about something else, and it will have to do with Kate because she went out and came back with the news that you got shot. I know Kate, she's not exactly got important connections so it's something to do with John and I. The threat is being dealt with but if you receive a message that your sister is still in danger, you are likely to do whatever it takes to get her out of danger so, I will give you one simple warning. If you hurt Kate then you are definitely in trouble."  
"Sherlock," Kate said, giving him an intent stare.  
"No one can protect themselves all the time."  
"I know."  
"Right!" John said behind them, holding up cups and smilling, "Tea."


	35. Sounds in the Night

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter, I'm really sorry it's taken a while, I had writer's block :p There might be less updates over the next month or so because I'm starting to revise for my exams soon. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :)**_

Kate slept soundly on her bed, her door half open. Sam had insisted he was fine on the sofa, and after a while, she had gotten too tired to argue. Chasing reports, analyses and orders for beverages was surprisingly tiring. She was always eager to get out of her work clothes. The cheap shirt and trousers were so restrictive. At least it was a job. She had been in situations a lot worse. Now she had her own little flat and a job, she could get started. Contribute. She suddenly shot up. There was a noise in her living room. It wasn't Sam – he was fast asleep on the sofa. She had come in quite late, and when she went about her business, he hadn't noticed. Plus, Kate's senses had tuned themselves to things that had to be important, and she wouldn't wake up if it was an unimportant noise. It seemed to have come from upstairs, so she quietly headed up, giving a quick glance to the sofa, where Sam seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She grinned – he _was_ quite predictable.

Kate crept up the stairs, as silent as she could be. She hoped that one of them had just knocked something over or something fell in the night, but she knew there were chances of it being because of something far worse than that. "Everything alright here?" She asked after knocking on their door and coming in. Something suddenly hit her on the head, and she almost instinctively gave a large kick in return. She ducked as a punch was thrown at her, and pushed the aggressive figure against the wall, trying to ignore the pain in her head. Someone flicked on the light. "I'm guessing that's not a friendly person," John said. "You guessed correctly," Kate replied as she made sure the disguised figure could barely budge. She was strong, but didn't usually use it. When she did, it almost scared her.  
"I'll call the police."  
"Please do."  
"Do you need anything?"  
She knew better than to ignore the pain in her head for much longer, "Have you got some ice?"

"We're lucky you were so inquisitive," John said to Kate as the police took the disguised person away, "We could've been killed. Thank you"  
"Anything for a friend. Or two friends," Kate replied. She was still in her pyjamas  
"Let me check your head."  
"OK." She found it hard to stay awake, not knowing whether that was because of the bash on the head or because she was simply tired.  
"Sorry," John said as she muttered an 'ow'. "It doesn't look too bad, just keep a bit of ice on it and try not to hurt it any further."  
"Sounds reasonable."  
"More reasonable than someone trying to kill us," Sherlock stated.  
"There will be a reason," John said, "There always is."  
"What's the reason of life then?"  
"Forty two."  
"Very funny."  
"Well, I don't know, there should usually an answer."  
"Or what?"  
"Or we just leave it, but you'll figure it out. Kate, where's your friend?"  
"Oh, Sam? He could probably sleep through a fire alarm. He won't wake up unless his mind decides to," Kate explained, "I'll go check up on him and then I'm going back to sleep." She got up, and headed for the stairs.  
"Thank you, Kate," Sherlock said as she went down.  
Kate turned round and smiled at him before continuing to walk down.  
"I told you she can look after herself," John said, "In fact, she can even look after us."  
Sherlock hummed in reply. He thought his point was still valid.


	36. Tracking Work

"What are you doing?!" Sam asked as he stood up. He had only just woken up, and found that Sherlock was rummaging through one of his bags. He had been able to get some clothes from his home.  
"Don't worry," Kate assured, "He's just curious and he'll put it all back, _won't you, Sherlock_?" She was stood by her bedroom door, arms folded.  
"Yes," Sherlock replied, occupied with rummaging through the bag and the items inside.  
"You let him?!" Sam asked, almost outraged.  
"Someone broke in last night and we think they tried to kill Sherlock and maybe even John," Kate explained, "Which will mean I'm probably on paperwork again..."  
"Not to managed they tried to essentially kill you," Sherlock pointed out as he seemed to have found something interesting.  
"What?!" Sam exclaimed, looking at Kate, worried.  
"Thanks for that, Sherlock, I wasn't going to tell him about that," Kate retorted quite quietly after rolling her eyes. She was still tired, but Sherlock had decided to wake her up to have a look.  
Sherlock sighed, then frowned and pulled something off a pair of jeans that belonged to Sam. He cleared his throat so Kate looked at him and frowned at the object in Sherlock's hand. "A tracker and bug," he said, answering the question that had yet to be asked.  
"Sam?!" Kate shouted, shocked, as she stopped leaning on the doorway.  
"What?! _I _didn't know that was in there!" Sam defended  
"Oh come on, Kate, there's a more obvious reason why it was in there!" Sherlock said.  
"I know!" Kate retorted, "Sam, you're really too predictable for your own good!" She lightly slapped Sam on the back of the head. Sherlock grinned at her behaviour – it all seemed so normal to her.  
"I'm going to have a shower if that's alright," Sam said and headed to the bathroom.  
"OK. I'll give it to Lestrade," Kate said as she took the device out of Sherlock's hands and looked at it.  
"Will you?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrows as he looked at her.  
"Of course I will. I'm going there soon." She looked up at him  
"No, you're not."  
"Yes I am."  
"You were hit on the back of the head, it must hurt."  
"Not with painkillers, now stop frigging worrying about me, Sherlock Holmes! I can look after myself."  
"Apparently, yes, but what do you need to do there, anyway?"  
"Work."  
"No."  
"Yes I do. Now, haven't you got your own work to do?"  
"Not particularly – only boring cases."  
"The most judgemental people are the people who get bored the most."  
"And who told you that?"  
"You."  
"What?"  
"Well, not told me verbally but you've shown it by just...being yourself."  
"Oh really?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, the boring cases aren't fun, you need fun cases, not boring ones."  
"And what sort of cases are fun then?"  
"Murders, apparent suicides, serial, large burglars, things like that."  
"You only like the big cases then?"  
"Yes."  
"Well, no wonder you became famous."  
"Really?"  
"Yeah, now please go, I need to get ready."  
"Hmm, fine." He headed to the door that led upstairs, unable to stop the grin forming on his face. Kate chuckled and shook her head. That man was impossible.


	37. Coats and Phones

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter – I said it'd take a while haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and cookies to anyone who can figure out what happens next :) Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate pulled her jacket on as she got out of the flat and pulled her bag up onto her shoulder. It was her time to work. Again. Sam had promised he'd be fine on his own, or he'd get Mrs Hudson to help. Sherlock and John had gone away to help on a case somewhere else thanks to Lestrade. She was glad of that – it would mean no more hassling from Sherlock about what was going on. He would find out eventually but they were dealing it. Lestrade had also managed to get her to work in a different division of Scotland Yard whilst they sorted it out, but he promised he'd keep her informed. He must have known that only doing paperwork would just bore her, but she had suspicions that Sherlock had been involved. Oh well, she knew his intentions were good.

Before she was able to hail a cab, she watched as a black car parked in front of her. The window rolled down, and she saw a woman sat at the other side, busy texting on her phone. Kate had to hold in her laughter – the woman looked very posh yet really did not seem like she earned that. After a few moments of silence, the woman looked at her expectantly. "I think it's best if you get into the car," she said before focusing on her phone again. "Sorry, but I don't get into strangers cars," Kate retorted, "Very basic rule that any idiot should know."  
"I suggest you do," the woman replied as she typed on her expensive phone.  
"I've got a job to go to and I don't want to be late so sorry to disappoint you."  
"Your job at Scotland Yard? It won't take long. Probably. Otherwise, we can sort it."  
Kate crossed her arms. She felt like just walking away but there was something strange about it all, making her want to find out. "Who's we?"  
"You'll find out."  
Kate felt like tapping her feet. She didn't feel like putting up with this for longer.  
"It's much safer than a taxi, I assure you."  
Kate scoffed, "How can you be sure of that?"  
The woman looked at her again, "Because it's promised by the government."  
"Politicians tell nothing but lies. If I've learnt anything; that's it."  
"I'm not talking about politicians, I'm talking about the government." She focused on her phone again.  
Kate frowned, "That doesn't really make sense and how can you be sure of that anyway?"  
The woman looked at her again. "Get in the car and find out."  
Kate raised an interested eyebrow. It made sense if it was from the government, but who the hell wanted _her _to help? Of all people, why her? It didn't harm to find out – if it did, she had hands and feet and teeth as well as a very strong head, all of which made very handy ways to attack someone if necessary. She bit the inside of her cheek, opened the door of the car and got in.


	38. To Keep An Eye On

Kate looked at the expensively decorated office she was guided to. She was still very aware of everything – she wouldn't relax so easily. She frowned as she spotted a man working at the desk on the other end of the room. His head suddenly shot up and he looked at her, giving her an almost, _almost_, a welcoming smile. "Good morning, Kate," he greeted. Kate looked at him with suspicion. "Morning," she replied, her wariness shown in her voice, "Sorry but what am I doing here?"  
"I've come to you about my brother," the man replied.  
"I never knew Sherlock had a brother!"  
The man raised an eyebrow, surprised that she guessed correctly so quickly. "You show quite a lot of persistence. Most people usually just get in. Mainly because of curiosity or I approach them differently."  
"It's something people are usually taught when they're little. Stranger danger."  
He smiled and gestured to the spare chair. "Please, have a seat."  
Kate, slightly more at ease, sat on the chair opposite to his.  
"My name is Mycroft Holmes and yes, I'm Sherlock's older brother."  
"I can see the similarities. I'm Kate, by the way, but you obviously know that."  
"Yes. I've come to understand it that my brother has gone away."  
"Yeah, I'm guessing he stole your ID."  
Mycroft frowned, "How did you know?"  
"Guess, and I know he likes stealing things sometimes but gives them back usually. Bit of a kleptomaniac..."  
"He calls himself a high functioning sociopath."  
Kate sniggered, making Mycroft frown, irritated.  
"What?"  
"People diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder used to be known as psychopaths but recently they've started to be called socio-paths."  
"How do you know that?"  
"Read it in my Psychology textbook at school. It was kind of...sticky."  
"Your vocabulary range is really quite interesting, now could we please return to the matter at hand?"  
"Of course, sorry."  
"My younger brother leads a rather dangerous life as you may already know."  
"_May?_ I'm sorry but I've been made very aware of that."  
"Yes. Sherlock and I do not exactly have the best relationship one could have with one's brother."  
Kate had to hold in another snigger – he talked so posh that it was almost ridiculous.  
"However, I am often concerned about him. We don't often have contact except for matters of business. Even then, it is kept to a minimum. I would highly appreciate it if you would keep me up to date with goings on to do with my brother."  
"You want me to keep an eye out for him?"  
"Yes. Basically. If you keep me informed about him then I will be more than happy to pay you well for it."  
"Definitely sounds decent."  
"Do we have an agreement?"  
"I think we do. I'd give you my phone number but I expect you already know it."  
Mycroft smiled, "I can see why he has befriended you. Now, I expect you wish to go back to work."  
"If I could."  
"The car is waiting outside. It will bring you to your intended destination. If you would be so kind to show yourself out."  
"O-OK. Well, thank you." Kate politely smiled before getting up and heading off. She knew there would be questions from a certain consulting detective when he got home. There always were.


	39. During the Week

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter – sorry it's a bit fluffy. I also understand that alerts haven't been going out when I posted the last chapter, just a word of warning. Reviews and suggestions are welcome as always. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate squirmed as her bedroom light was switched on. "Everything alright?" Sherlock's deep voice asked as he stood in her bedroom doorway. Kate was half asleep on her bed, the duvet wrapped around her.  
"A couple of arrests a day and a hell of a lot of running," Kate replied, her face still half buried in her pillow, "How about you, how's your week been?"  
"Rather interesting, then rather boring. All a mishmash. Where's your friend?"  
"Lestrade has hopefully sorted the problem and Sam is back at his flat."  
"Oh. I'd been slightly hoping it hadn't been dealt with. Would've been more fun."  
Kate grinned, "Sherlock Holmes, you're impossible!"  
"No, no, no, no. More like a little unlikely."  
Kate laughed, making him chuckle as well. "I'm guessing you only just got home."  
"Coat."  
"Yeah. Why are you bothering me, anyway?"  
"Because sleep is overrated and John is tired of listening to me 'rambling' and he has also gone to sleep."  
"Why now, though? You could've told me tomorrow."  
"You have work tomorrow."  
"No, I don't."  
"Why not?"  
"I'm allowed to have days off, Sherlock. Plus, I can't stand being in that office so much – it's all bleak and boring. I'd rather be painting or drawing or what not."  
"Then why don't you do that?"  
"Because it's hard to make a living like that. So, I'll just do that when I can and work in the meantime. What else am I meant to do?"  
"Well, my brother must have given you plenty of money to start you off."  
Kate sighed, "Knew it."  
"Knew what?"  
"That you'd know. I'm not going to rely on money I gain for nothing."  
"But it isn't nothing."  
"It still doesn't feel right. Might as well be a reporter if I wanted to do that."  
"Because reporters simply tell the news, much like you are doing for Mycroft, makes sense."  
"That's why I made the point."  
"I know, but my mouth speaks at the same rate that my thoughts do."  
"Oh, I know that."  
"How?"  
"You like showing off."  
Sherlock chuckled.  
"I do need to go outside more though, if I did work at home or something."  
"Then you should become a teacher."  
"What? Why a teacher? You should know you need qualifications for that."  
"I'm sure Mycroft could help, and I trust you'd be good at it."  
"Why would I be good at it?"  
"Because you seem more accepting than others. Unlike John, you have yet to become bored of my, well, John enjoys calling them habits."  
Kate grinned, "You're more than just slightly unlikely, Sherlock. Now, can I get some more sleep, please? We can talk tomorrow."  
"Fine. Goodnight."  
"Night," Kate said as he switched off the light and headed out of her flat.


	40. Questions at Breakfast

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. It's fluffy again because I need to work towards a storyline (Suggestions would be very much appreciated) though I have got some ideas. Anyway, enjoy!**_

John shuffled through Kate's living room. They had agreed that John would keep some of his things in the fridge that needed to be there, since Sherlock enjoyed using their fridge for experiments and Kate didn't store too many things in there anyway. "Morning," Kate greeted, an amused smile on her face, as John grabbed the milk that had a label with his name on it. John smiled at her after closing the fridge, "Morning. Tea?"  
"I'd love some, thanks," Kate replied with a smile, "I'll be up in about 5 minutes."  
"Got it." Kate headed back to her room, half shutting the door, whilst John headed for the door before he stopped and turned around. "He didn't bother you last night, did he?"  
Kate popped her head out of the door. "What do you think?"  
"Oh, God. Sorry."  
"It's OK. I've had worse."  
John laughed, "I'm happy you can put up with him."  
"We wouldn't be anywhere if I couldn't, would we?"  
"What do you mean by that?"  
Kate realised her mistake. "I have no idea."  
"You're a complete mystery."  
"Not completely! See you in a bit." With that, she shut the door.  
John just chuckled and went back upstairs.

"Since when do you do anything with food?!" Kate asked as Sherlock gave her a plate of toast.  
"It is essentially fuel for transport," Sherlock replied simply.  
"Right. Anyway, thank you."  
"So, you've got a day off," John said.  
"Yeah. I think Sherlock could sense it."  
John chuckled whilst Kate raised her eyebrows at Sherlock before she bit into her toast. "Being the consulting detective's assistant doesn't grant you many days off, but it's quite fun, when one of us isn't being threatened."  
Kate laughed at John's rather random comment. She enjoyed their company, though Sherlock sometimes asked strange questions, and he wasn't going to disappoint today.  
"Kate, are you going to settle down one day?" He asked out of random curiosity. Only he knew his own train of thought, and it was a mystery to everyone else how he got to such odd thoughts.  
Kate almost choked on her mouthful of toast. "Sorry, what?"  
"As in get married, have children. That boring thing that people want to do."  
"Sherlock, you don't ask questions like that," John pointed out.  
"W-why are you interested in knowing that?" Kate asked, half laughing.  
Sherlock shrugged, "I don't know."  
"Right, well I'll blame that on the food."  
"Why?"  
"Because it's a bit of a stupid question."  
"Why is it stupid?"  
"Gosh, you're like a child! Basically, if you want to ask someone about their future, you don't tend to ask if they plan to 'settle down'."  
"Why is it not a question people tend to ask? What's wrong with it?"  
"Social norms."  
"And it gives people the impression that you're interested in that person," John added.  
"I'm assuming you mean interested as in romantically," Sherlock said  
"Yes."  
"Oh. Sorry, Kate."  
"Well, you're lucky I know you, Sherlock. Otherwise I _would _have taken that in the wrong way," Kate replied dismissively  
Sherlock smiled and John just chuckled. It was randomly peaceful, but all three knew the peace normally didn't last very long...


	41. Days Off

_**Hello! Sorry it's been a while but I've been revising and I had writer's block. Anyway, this is sort of leading up to something I've got in mind for the story. I hope you enjoy it :)**_

Sherlock laid on the sofa in his flat. His legs were stretched out, his eyes were closed and his hands were under his chin, pressed together. John sat on his desk, typing an entry for his blog on his laptop. Kate came up the stairs, knocking before she came in. "Hello, Kate," John greeted with a smile as he looked up at her, "Everything alright?"  
"Yeah," she replied, "Just need to use some of your sugar if that's alright."  
"Of course. It's in the cupboard."  
Kate smiled, "Thanks. How are you?"  
"Fine, thanks. What are you making?"  
"Cookies."  
"Oh! I won't mind trying one of them."  
"I'll be sure to save you some."  
John smiled at her and then returned to focusing on his laptop. Kate suddenly noticed Sherlock on the sofa. She leaned over the end of it, letting her brunette hair dangle in his face, making him groan a little. "What are you doing?"  
"Case. Stuck. Mind palace. Thinking," Sherlock said in monotone, not opening his eyes, as he tried and failed to get Kate's hair out of his face.  
"Right. Would you like a cookie later when I've finished baking them?"  
"I would appreciate it if you saved me one or two for when I've solved the case," he said, still not opening his eyes.  
"Oh, yeah. Will do." She stood up straight again and headed to the kitchen before going back down to her flat with their sugar.  
As soon he was sure she was out of earshot, Sherlock opened his eyes, now thinking of other things than the case he was working on.  
"She's got another day off?" John asked, turning round, suddenly realising it was a little odd.  
"Bereavement leave," Sherlock replied simply, "You'd have known that if you had been paying attention."  
"Bereavement leave?! What?"  
Sherlock sighed and started explaining, "Lestrade told me earlier. The day after her friend who stayed over for a while, Sam, had returned to his home, they found him dead. Lestrade knew it would affect Kate so arranged for her to have a week off. Rather obvious."  
"Oh my God," John said in a whisper, "When you say something's obvious, it usually isn't but this is barely recognisable. She doesn't seem upset."  
"She was homeless for several months, she's obviously learnt to suppress her feelings and quickly move on. Well, that's the first reason that comes to mind."  
"You're not 100% certain about it?"  
"She's a woman who keeps to herself. Plus, I have various valid theories but I think that if I tell her, I'll probably get slapped..."  
John chuckled at the thought. He wouldn't put it past her to slap the consulting detective. They had a strange friendship, but then again, it was Sherlock Holmes. Being friends with him _would _be strange...


	42. More Strange Questions

_**Hello! Here's the next chapter. Apologies that it's been a while but I got writer's block again. It's another fluffy chapter but I promise something will happen in the next chapter. Anyway, enjoy! :)**_

Sherlock and John came back from out of the pouring rain. "Well, I think that's our reward for solving a case," John said as he shut the door, "Rain, and lots of it."  
Sherlock shushed him and looked at him expectantly. They could hear soft singing as well as a guitar being played.  
"What's wrong with that? It's Kate. I've heard her sing and play guitar before."  
"Obviously, but which song?"  
"I don't know. I can't possibly know every single song in the world – I haven't got your good memory."  
"I know. Barely anyone does."  
"So which song?"  
"Ordinary World. Rather sad song. She always surprises me..."  
"What? She surprises _you_? Do you even get surprised?"  
"Very occasionally."  
"Right. Why does she surprise you?"  
"I thought she may be able to fully suppress her emotions but obviously not."  
"Not exactly following."  
"Sometimes people sing to relieve stress or release emotions, which is what she is doing. I won't be long."  
John nodded and went up the stairs as Sherlock walked to Kate's flat. John stopped, looked at him and frowned. "What are you doing?"  
"Talking to her."  
"Right. Why?"  
"I solved the case."  
John paused for a moment. "Oh. Right..."  
Sherlock forced a smile at him and then headed into 221C.

Kate stopped playing as Sherlock came in. "No, continue, please," he said, smiling at her.  
Kate looked up at him as she sat on her sofa. "I'm guessing you solved the case."  
"Correct assumption. We haven't finished it but solved it nonetheless."  
"Good." She got up and headed to the kitchen, then came back with three chocolate chip cookies. She gave him two and then took a bite out of the other.  
"Thank you."  
"You know, don't you?"  
"About what?"  
"Don't be stupid. You must've seen Lestrade and he would've told you."  
"Yes, he did."  
"And you're trying to be nice to me, am I really being that obvious?"  
"Slightly. The music gave it away."  
"Oh."  
"But isn't it good? Sometimes people seem to need to release their emotions."  
Kate shrugged, "I don't like to show it much."  
"I noticed. Why people _do _like showing their emotions baffles me."  
"You and me both, Sherlock."  
Sherlock laughed as she took another bite out of her cookie.  
"I think it's because they want people to care about them or to let their thoughts out. That's what I think anyway."  
"Perhaps, yes. I could ask John..."  
"Good idea. How is he anyway?"  
"Seems fine. Already rushing about for the bloody date he has tomorrow. Why don't you do that?"  
"Go out on dates? It's not my thing."  
"Why not? You could be deemed physically attractive, friendly and clever. They seem to be qualities people want in a partner."  
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me or something but I do know you better and I really suggest you think before you ask these strange questions."  
"John gave me a whole rant when you went back downstairs after breakfast yesterday."  
"Did you listen?"  
"Not really, no..."  
Kate laughed, "I'm really not surprised. Why are you still here?"  
Sherlock thought for a moment, "I think the conversation may have gotten sidetracked."  
"Yeah, I think it did."  
"Bye, Kate."  
"Bye. I hope you like the cookies."  
Sherlock hummed in reply as he headed out of the flat.


	43. After Midnight

Kate slept peacefully in her flat. Everything seemed to be fine, though she soon became faintly aware that she wasn't on her own. Her bedroom light suddenly switched on, making her squeeze her eyes shut. She slowly got up and blinked in the bright light, seeing Sherlock standing in the doorway. "Something wrong?" She asked as she looked at him. His face seemed cold, colder than usual, almost like he was worried or afraid. "John hasn't come home yet," he said simply. "Right," Kate commented as she got out of her bed, "I think I can see where this is going. He didn't answer his phone, did he?"  
Sherlock shook his head. "We created a rule, John and I. If we are not returning before midnight or not returning at all for the night then we tell each other. It mainly applies to John but you never know."  
Kate nodded. "Turn your back."  
Sherlock frowned, "Why?"  
"Getting changed. It'll only be for a minute."  
"Exactly?"  
Kate glared at him. He sighed, half amused and turned around. Kate quickly changed from her pyjamas into some jeans and a top. "Done."  
Sherlock glanced at her and smiled as she slipped past him. She quickly put some shoes on and pulled her coat on. "Where are we going to?"  
"A cosy restaurant a few streets from here. Typical John – just your basic boring."  
"Well, not so boring now. Let's go."

They soon entered the restaurant. The chairs had been put on the tables and someone was mopping, though the cleaner gave them a smile. His skin was almost a caramel colour, and his hair root black. His brown eyes sparkled, like he was happy to see them. "We're just closing up, I'm afraid," he said as he stopped cleaning to talk to them, "Though I could get something out of the kitchen if you want." Sherlock shook his head and let Kate explain. "No, we're not going out. We're friends. Platonic," she said.  
"Really?" The man looked at Kate with raised eyebrows.  
"No, no. Don't do that," Sherlock said, almost getting fed up.  
Kate glared at him again, confused, then turned back to the cleaner. "We're looking for someone who should've come in here tonight but he didn't return. Could you help us?"  
"Of course," the man replied, "What did he look like?"  
"Rather short, sandy brown hair. He would have been wearing a red jumper as well as obviously trousers or jeans or whatever. He will have met a girl," Sherlock said quickly, his tone showing he was already bored. Kate had to stifle her laughter as Sherlock mentioned what clothes John had been wearing for more than one reason.  
"Oh yeah, they were in here, yeah. They seemed alright but I saw them as I was taking the bins out. It looked like they were having a fight or something so I didn't think anything of it."  
"Well, that was rather stupid. He is missing and you ignored a-"  
He was interrupted by Kate nudging him roughly, making him let out a soft ow. "Thanks for your help," she said with a smile and they headed out.  
"That wasn't needed," Sherlock said quietly as they got out.  
"Oh, that was so needed," Kate retorted, "You really need to learn how and when to shut up."  
"Very well, but at least we know what our next stop is."  
"Got the address?"  
"Yes. Have you got your ID?"  
"From Scotland Yard? Obviously."  
Sherlock smirked and got a taxi.


	44. Blame the Machines

_**Hello! Sorry it's taken a while but I've barely got any inspiration. Anyway, this chapter's up now and I'll try to get the next one up as soon as I write it haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! :)**_

They got to the house. It was average – it didn't look too special or too shabby. It was the sort of house you'd pass without a second glance or worried thoughts. No lights were visible from outside. Nevertheless, when they came up to the door, Kate knocked. "Why'd you do that?" Sherlock asked softly, "She's obviously asleep or she's not here." "One way or another, it's best to make sure," Kate replied as she got out her ID. "You won't be needing it," Sherlock insisted impatiently. "You're honestly like a child who wants to get out of the supermarket at the moment," Kate retorted, "Just shut up." They waited for a minute or two, but there was no sign of anyone inside unless they were sleeping very deeply. "I'm assuming you can pick the lock," Kate said, looking at the consulting detective.  
"Obviously. Can't you?"  
He earned a glare from Kate, which made him smirk as he moved closer to the lock on the door.  
"Have you got a hair grip?"  
"Oh come on, stop being an idiot. You know I don't use those things, especially since you've probably already snooped through my flat."  
"Fair enough. Good thing is, some of John's previous girlfriends left some lying around."  
"What, like you?"  
"Now _you're _being annoying."  
Kate chuckled. The lock suddenly clicked and Sherlock pushed the door open.

They went in, already knowing what to do. They put on gloves and Kate went upstairs, whilst Sherlock searched for any clues downstairs. They searched through cupboards and drawers and wardrobes. Nothing. Sherlock sat behind the computer and started looking through the files and virtually everything else. Kate knocked on the back of the cupboard behind the mirror in the bathroom and grinned - some of it was hollow. She took away the hard to see panel and smiled as she saw the electronic tablet. She carefully took it and went back down, trying to figure out the password.

"I have nothing," Sherlock reported as he heard her footsteps, "No encrypted emails that I know of, no shifty documents or pictures. Very simple passwords. Nothing that could lead us to where John is."  
"Figure out the password for this, please," Kate demanded nicely, showing him the tablet.  
Sherlock grinned at the sight of it and took it, quickly getting out a pen from his pocket. "I should take you to a case, it could prove very useful," he said as he tapped the pen on the tablet.  
"I won't mind that as long as it doesn't get in the way of my actual work."  
"Good. When are you returning to your job?"  
"I don't know. When I get bored or when Lestrade actually tells me I should. Am I right in thinking that you had something to do with that?"  
"Yes. Obviously."  
Kate smiled as Sherlock searched through the contents of the tablet. He suddenly stood up, taking the tablet with him.  
"Come on, we have our address," he shared, "Some people try to be careful but are so wonderfully stupid."


	45. Worries in the Night

_**Hello! I'm really sorry it's been so long. I've been really stuck with writing but I decided to try and write again and look what happened! I did it! Yay! Anyway, I thought you might want a bit of fluff so that's basically what I've written. Next chapter will have things move along though, and I've got an idea of who will be involved in this sort of mini plot thing. Anyway, enjoy!**_

Kate went inside the cab, Sherlock going in on the other side. Sherlock quickly gave the driver the address and told him to hurry, slipping his phone back in his pocket after having called Lestrade. He placed the electronic tablet onto the middle seat – it was the only thing they'd taken – they had made sure the rest was just about back in its place, to avoid any suspicions. Kate peered out of the window of the cab, watching the empty streets go by. Sherlock was deep in his thoughts, searching in his mind palace. Once he was done, rather unsuccessfully, he quickly glanced at Kate, who was still looking outside, leaning her head on her arm. "Are you alright?" He asked, slightly frowning.  
"Hm?" Kate turned to him, lacking her usual fieriness. It didn't take much to see she was tired. Although she hadn't been doing a lot – she had been off work and mainly been doing quite simple things in her flat – she was shattered. She had become emotionally drained because of the loss of Sam, and this wasn't helping very much. One way or another, she chose to lie in the most common way. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied before shifting a little.  
"You're worried," Sherlock pointed out.  
"Just a bit, yeah," Kate admitted casually.  
"Only natural. Especially considering your compromised state of mind. John's been through a lot, I'm sure he'll be fine."  
"We can't be sure of that though, and I'm not that compromised, I'm just not exactly myself."  
"Same difference."  
Kate shoved him gently, making him slightly smile. "Back to the point, you're right. Nothing is ever definite, no, but it's likely he'll be fine. How are you coping?"  
"Do you really think we should talk about this now?"  
"Not exactly but it has to be talked about sooner or later."  
"Why?"  
"People need to talk about their feelings when they're upset, don't they?"  
"You, sort of, learnt that from John, didn't you?"  
"Obviously."  
Kate chuckled slightly. "Why don't you talk about your feelings when you're upset then?"  
"I'm not most people. I don't need to release those feelings."  
"Neither do I."  
"Yes you do."  
"If I do then I'll do it later when John's safe."  
"Good enough. We're here." Sherlock quickly paid and got out along with Kate. They were now in a part of town where the police were regularly called because of a fight or a fire or much darker things. It wasn't the most assuring start. They gave each other a knowing look as the cab drove off, and headed to the back of one of the buildings.


End file.
